


That's How You Know

by afterthenovels



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enchanted AU, Fairytales vs. the real world, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 77,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthenovels/pseuds/afterthenovels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine used to believe in grand romantic gestures, in the power of love and happily ever after.  Now, as a music therapist fresh out of college, he has learned not to believe in any of those things anymore. Fairytales aren’t true. Real life is not lovey-dovey happy-happy-joy-joy. Believing in those things will only break your heart.</p><p>That’s why Blaine doesn’t really understand how he ends up helping out Kurt, a man who looks like a Disney prince, believes in true love and keeps saying that he’s from the magical kingdom of Kingleysia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as the Enchanted Klaine AU, except the plot will be quite different from the movie. I have no idea how long this will be (probably quite long, considering my earlier multichapters), but we’ll see. I can’t unfortunately promise any regular updates because I’m a very busy student, but I shall do my very best to get new chapters out as often as possible.
> 
> As always, an endless thank you to [Essihöntti](http://crispyhush.tumblr.com), who gave me this idea and then practically forced me to write it. ;D ♥

It’s raining. Of course it’s raining.

Blaine hunches his shoulders against the cold, trying to wrap his coat more tightly around his body. The awning he’s standing under doesn’t really shield him from the weather at all, and his shoes are definitely not made for this kind of a downpour, but Nathan had promised to meet him outside the restaurant once he got off work. They specifically agreed on the word outside, since it is Friday night, the restaurant is packed, and it would take them a long while to locate each other in the crowd.

Besides, Nathan was the one who made the reservation, so Blaine can’t exactly get the table before he arrives.

Which should have already happened thirty minutes ago.

Blaine sighs and leans forward to glance left and right, scanning the street for Nathan. The sidewalk is uncharacteristically quiet for this time of the week, but the weather must have scared most people off, and none of the few people walking towards or away from the restaurant look like his boyfriend of over six months.

This has been happening more and more recently – they make plans, mostly even relatively romantic plans like having dinner together or going out to see a movie or a play, and Nathan either cancels at the last minute or doesn’t show up at all. Blaine is slowly getting tired of it, tired of being the one stuck waiting, but he loves Nathan, and Nathan always has a good excuse. Like getting stuck at work. Or bumping into a friend he hasn’t seen in a long while. Or...

Well, usually it’s about getting stuck at work.

Which Blaine can understand. He has had to cancel one or two dates himself because of work as well, and he and Nathan both agreed when they started dating that their work must come first. They are at that time of their lives when they have to make connections and finally find their way.

Besides, most of the time Nathan does show up, and when he does they can talk to each other about their day, talk about the restaurant they’re eating at, or just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company and thinking their own thoughts. That’s what solid, adult relationships are like. It’s about independence and compromises, about giving space for the other person and realizing that the happiest relationships are built on sheer dedication and nothing more. There’s no need to act like two lovebirds or to shout their love out from the rooftops for the whole world, like Blaine would have done before. There’s no need to make special plans for anniversaries or plot silly surprises.

He and Nathan work as a couple, despite the little time they actually get to spend together. They are both so busy, but as a couple they’re also... sensible. They work. In every sense of the word.

Blaine’s phone rings in his pocket just as he’s wondering if he should just give in and go wait in the restaurant’s bar, and he fishes it out, expecting it to be Nathan with another excuse or apology. Instead he sees Tina’s name on the screen and huffs out a breath in frustration.

“Tina–” he answers, stepping closer to the building wall again when a taxi drives past, sending a small spray of water on the sidewalk from the puddles covering the street.

“Did he show up this time?” Tina interrupts.

Blaine sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel his hair starting to get frizzy from the humidity even under all the gel he put in it this morning, and it’s not a very pleasant feeling. “He hasn’t arrived yet, okay,” he hedges. “But I’m sure he’s just–”

“And what time did you agree to meet?” Tina interrupts again. Blaine can hear faint music in the background, so she must be waiting for Mike at the dance studio.

“We... We talked about meeting here at eight thirty,” Blaine admits, glancing up and down the street again. Still no sign of Nathan.

“M-hm,” Tina hums, “and you are aware that it’s already fifteen minutes over nine? Which means he’s forty-five minutes late. If you can call it late when he won’t even show up.”

“Stop it,” Blaine hisses angrily, hunching his shoulders a little more against a sudden strong burst of wind. “I know you’re my friend, but you still have no right to talk about my boyfriend like that.”

“I just don’t understand why you’ve stayed with him for this long,” Tina argues, her voice rising. Blaine sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “You barely see each other, and I can’t remember the last time I saw you kiss Nathan. Or even hold his hand.” Tina’s voice softens in a way that Blaine hates, especially because it only happens when they’re talking about his relationship with Nathan. It always sounds like she’s talking to a child, and while Blaine understands that it comes from a place of caring, it’s still frustrating. “I just don’t understand why you’re still together, Blaine,” Tina is saying slowly. “This is so different from all your other relationships and I’m worried that–”

It’s Blaine’s turn to interrupt. “That’s exactly why we’re still together, Tina,” he says in a final voice. “Because this is different. And we don’t need PDA or anything like that to prove our relationship to you or anyone else.”

“I know,” Tina placates, “but you’re just so distant with each other. It’s... weird.”

“We’re both adults,” Blaine replies and looks down at his watch. It really is almost twenty past nine already, and Nathan still hasn’t shown up. “We don’t want to act like teenagers or sing out our feelings in song. It doesn’t fit us.”

Tina sighs, sounding frustrated. “And that’s fine, okay, but it’s just... It’s so different from the way you used to be,” she adds, her voice careful. “I haven’t seen that bubbly, overdramatic, wears-his-heart-on-his-sleeve-and-loves-grand-gestures Blaine I met in college for a long time, and I’m just worried. I know that what happened with Connor was awful and you were really hurt by it,” Tina says quickly, as if speed will make it hurt less, “but then you started dating Nathan and– I just worry, Blaine. I want you to be happy, and I’m not sure if you are. Not with him.”

Blaine groans. “I _am_ happy, Tina. You don’t have to worry about me. I just... grew up and started living in the real world.”

Another car drives past him, this one sending an even bigger spray of water on the sidewalk, soaking the tips of his shoes, and Blaine sighs for the umpteenth time this evening.

“Look, Tina, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Blaine, I didn’t mean–”

“I know you didn’t,” Blaine interrupts gently. He does appreciate Tina’s concern, always has and always will, but it’s just... a bit too much right now. “Tell Mike I said hi?”

Tina sighs, obviously reluctant to end the call. “I will. You get home safe, alright?”

“Will do,” Blaine promises, and after saying their goodbyes he disconnects the call, frowning down at the screen of his phone. There are no new messages from Nathan, no missed calls or even Facebook alerts that he might have missed while he was talking to Tina. Blaine feels a small twinge of worry in his stomach when he opens his messages and sees that the last message he got from Nathan was this morning, confirming their date, followed by the three messages sent by Blaine himself while he’s been waiting here.

Then again, this is the third time this has happened in the last three weeks, and a tired, resigned feeling in Blaine’s heart at that realization almost drowns out his worry. Almost.

As a last effort Blaine calls Nathan’s number, but he only gets the same old voice mail he’s heard before, informing him that Nathan Carter is busy and will get back to him as soon as possible. He leaves a message anyway, letting Nathan know that he’s going home and that he’ll call again tomorrow and hopefully everything’s alright.

Once he’s ended the call and slipped his phone back in his pocket he takes one last look around, confirming that there’s still no sign of Nathan. The rain seems to be finally easing up though, and Blaine’s flat isn’t that far away anyway, so he might as well walk home and save the cab money when his clothes are this damp already. He does still need to pay back his student loans.

Blaine turns the collar of his coat up, hunches his shoulders against the rain, and starts walking.

He’s already more than halfway home, seriously questioning his idea of walking home in this weather after his disappointing day, clothes drenched and hair completely breaking free from its gel, when he hears a voice ahead of him. It sounds like someone asking for help in a loud, clear voice, even though aside from Blaine and a homeless woman across the street there isn’t anyone around.

Blaine slows his steps and squints his eyes, noticing a tall man standing in front of a flashing, palace-shaped sign for a nearby Indian restaurant, his hands gesturing in frustration. The man’s silhouette looks odd somehow, as if he’s wearing a... cape?

“Just help me, please! You must be magical, and I know you can help me!”

Blaine stops, blinking his eyes. The man _is_ wearing a cape, a long dark blue cape that hangs from his shoulders, obviously soaked through. The man’s back is turned to Blaine, but Blaine can still make out other unusual clothing choices as well – the man seems to be wearing thick, almost knee-high boots and pair of pants that look so tight that they’re practically painted on. The silhouette of his body looks like something out of a Disney movie, and when the man lifts his hands in the air in a helpless gesture, Blaine can suddenly see the long shape of a sword hanging from his belt.

He should keep walking or just turn away. The rain has turned into a drizzle, but it is still raining, and Blaine is so close to the warmth of his apartment. Besides, the man looks like a cosplayer or an actor who’s trying to talk to the restaurant sign for some odd reason, the neon yellow color of it glowing through the rain and lighting up the man’s body with an eerie light. He might be crazy or deranged, dangerous even, and all the years Blaine has lived here should have already taught him that one does not simply talk to weird-looking strangers in the middle of the night in New York City.

But as Blaine stands there, staring at the man in confusion and listening to his pleas, the rain pattering against the top of his head, he can hear how... _lost_ the man sounds like.

Blaine has never liked seeing people in any kind of distress.

“Excuse me?” he calls out, keeping a safe distance between himself and the man, who startles at the words, looking around as if he expects the sign to be the one speaking. “Um, is– is everything alright?”

The man finally turns around, his wet cape swishing around his body, and– _wow_. He is actually wearing a full Disney prince gear, tights and boots and a dark tunic that makes his shoulders look wide and strong, the sheathed sword hanging from his belt looking scarily real now that Blaine can see it properly. Actually, all the clothes and accessories the man is wearing look more real or at least more tailored than anything Blaine has ever seen before during Halloween or at Broadway.

When Blaine finally manages to tear his eyes away from the unusual clothes and look up at the man’s face, he can practically feel his heart skip a beat or two in his chest. The man’s chestnut hair is drooping sadly over his forehead, but it still manages to look soft and thick, and Blaine’s fingers suddenly itch to touch it, to run his hand through it. The man’s skin is pale, his features delicate, almost fairy-like, but he still looks like he could take his sword and win in a fight against anyone, an underlying strength hiding beneath his beautiful face.

Because he really is beautiful. Blaine can’t come up with any other word to describe him. He has never seen anyone even remotely like this man before, not even in fairytales.

“Oh,” the man says, blinking his eyes as he looks at Blaine in confusion. “Hello.” His voice is unusually high, but it somehow fits him as well.

“Hi?” Blaine replies, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, uneasy under the man’s curious stare. “Do you, erm, need any help? I’m sorry but you just look a bit lost.”

The man gives a sheepish laugh, pushing his hand through his wet hair. “Well, I am actually very, _very_ lost. I’ve been trying to ask help from the people I’ve run into, but they’ve all been surprisingly rude, and none of the magical castles or paintings have agreed to help me either.”

He gestures at the sign behind him, as if the Indian palace in the sign is one of these magical castles, and wow, he must be more out if it than Blaine first realized.

“Yeah, well – welcome to New York,” Blaine jokes awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

The man’s shoulders relax, his eyes going soft and his lips turning up in a smile. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “It’s nice to finally have a name for this place.” He takes a step closer, and Blaine stays still, mesmerized by the movement of the man’s body underneath his soaking wet clothes. “It still doesn’t sound familiar to me, though. Is there any chance you could point me in the direction of Kingleysia? I should probably be getting home soon.”

“King– what?” Blaine asks, shaking his head in confusion. He’s starting to feel like he’s stepped into some other dimension, but he’s still rooted to the spot, unable to walk away.

“Kingleysia?” the man repeats, frowning and looking at Blaine as if the name’s supposed to ring a bell. “The western kingdom near Lake Carmelton?”

“I’ve...” Blaine hesitates. “I’ve never actually heard of a place like that before, to be honest. But I can point you towards the nearest subway station? Or call someone for you, if that would help?” he suggests, already reaching for his phone in his pocket.

The man’s frown deepens. “I don’t think they’d hear you from here,” he says uneasily, glancing around. “I... I must be further away from home than I thought.”

His voice sounds so much smaller all of a sudden, confused and scared, and Blaine feels a painful twinge in his chest. No one should look that lost. Not even a potentially crazy person, because honestly, either the man is a cosplayer who’s taking his costume way too seriously or he actually believes that he’s from a place called Kingleysia and that magical Indian restaurants can help him get back home.

“I guess I should just keep walking then,” the man mutters to himself. He’s staring into the distance, as if he’s forgotten that Blaine’s still there, but then he startles from his thoughts, turning around to face Blaine again, a polite fake smile appearing on his face.

Blaine doesn’t know exactly how he can tell that the man’s, a complete stranger’s, smile is fake – but somehow he just knows. It’s a bit too bright, too far away from the man’s eyes, too practiced and regal, in some weird way, as if the man is a prince facing his kingdom, someone who doesn’t really want to be here but is trying to hide it and do what everyone else is expecting him to do.

It looks familiar, as if Blaine has seen a similar smile on his own face one too many times.

“Thank you for your help,” the man says, straightening his shoulders, the smile on his face staying in place. “It was very kind of you to stop and ask me if I was alright – not a lot of people in this place would apparently do that.”

“It’s nothing,” Blaine rushes to say. The rain has let up by now, but it still feels somehow wrong to just let the man go, to leave him on his own. “I wasn’t really even able to help you, so...”

The man’s smile softens, turning into something a little more genuine, as he starts walking backwards. “Still,” he insists. “At least I know now where I am, and hopefully that’ll help me find my way back home.” He takes another step back, stumbling a little as he steps over the curb and sets his foot on the street.

Blaine can see a flash of light from the corner of his eye and before he has a chance to think he’s shouting, “Look out!”, rushing forward and pulling the man back. The man yelps in surprise, and Blaine overbalances, both of them tumbling onto the wet sidewalk, the man’s weight knocking the breath out of Blaine. A yellow cab drives past them fast, barely avoiding the place where the man was just standing less than two seconds ago and splattering them both with water, the honk of its horn echoing through the street as it disappears behind a corner.

Blaine groans and tries to blink the stars out of his eyes. He hit the pavement pretty hard, and he’ll probably have impressive bruises on his back tomorrow. “Are you alright?” he asks, looking down.

The man is lying on top of him, his hands over his head for protection, but at Blaine’s words he lifts his own head carefully, their eyes meeting. The man’s eyes are an indescribable color, blue and green and gray, all of them swirling together around his pupils as if his eyes are actual galaxies Blaine could get lost into if he stared into them for too long.

“What...” the man starts, and then licks his lips, staring back into Blaine’s eyes. “You saved me.”

Blaine blinks. “Oh.” He’s suddenly very aware of his own hands resting on the man’s waist, against the wet and warm fabric of his clothes, the man’s cape spread out over them.

“My name’s Kurt,” the man, Kurt, says, smiling down at Blaine, their faces mere inches apart, and from this close Blaine could practically count the faint freckles dotting his cheeks and nose.

“Blaine. Blaine Anderson,” Blaine answers, automatically trying to reach his hand out for a handshake despite the awkward angle – you can take the boy out of Dalton, but you can’t take Dalton out of the boy – but he only ends up wincing when the movement pulls at one of the muscles he must have fallen on.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Kurt exclaims, quickly pushing himself up and grabbing Blaine by the arms so he can pull him up as well. He begins dusting Blaine’s clothes off, his eyes wide in alarm. “I was so dazed that I didn’t even realize I was... Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Blaine winces again, stretching his back carefully. His clothes are even wetter than before, if that’s somehow even possible. “Just bruises, I think, nothing worse. You?” He looks at Kurt, trying to see if he’s injured.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Thanks to you,” Kurt adds. “Thank you, Blaine, honestly. If you hadn’t pulled me back I would have gotten hit by that... that...”

“Cab?” Blaine finishes for him, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Yes. That... cab... thing,” Kurt repeats, making a vague gesture with his hand. “Are they common in here?”

Blaine lets out a laugh, rubbing his sore shoulder. “They are. Very common. They are also the reason why you should always check before you cross the street.”

Kurt nods, flashing a sheepish grin. “Noted.”

The silence that follows is a little awkward, with both of them glancing at each other as Blaine stretches his muscles and Kurt adjusts his sword and clothes. It’s only when Blaine realizes how disgustingly wet and dirty he himself feels like that he notices that Kurt is actually trying to wrap his sodden cape around himself, as if he’s cold.

“Where are you... I mean, do you have someplace to stay for tonight?” Blaine asks.

Kurt looks up, letting go of his cape. “Oh. Well...” He brushes his hair away from his forehead, the gesture surprisingly elegant when they’re both standing there in wet clothes. “I was hoping to just find my way home as soon as possible, but I guess Kingleysia is a lot further away than I thought.” He frowns, lost in thought. “I do feel rather tired, so I guess I could just find a meadow or a hollow tree to rest my head on...”

“What?” Blaine laughs.

“Well, there aren’t exactly that many other choices,” Kurt snaps, his fingers curling around the cape again, and for the first time Blaine can hear the underlying frustration and tiredness in his voice, crackling through his words.

“You could stay at my place for tonight,” Blaine blurts out before his mind catches up with his words.

Kurt’s head snaps up, his eyes widening, and exactly at the same moment the rational part of Blaine’s mind starts ringing alarm bells. He doesn’t know this man, knows nothing about him except that his name is Kurt and he’s from Kingleysia, wherever that place may be or not be, and god, he could be a crazy sword murderer for all Blaine knows.

Except no one could be that good an actor. Something about Kurt just seems genuine. Blaine doesn’t want to say that he himself believes in magical castles, but Kurt obviously does, and Blaine can’t just leave him here, wandering around New York all on his own when he clearly doesn’t even know the city well enough to watch out for crazy cab drivers.

Tina may think Blaine’s not the same person anymore as he was back in college, but he’s still not a bad person. He doesn’t want to be a bad person.

“Really?” Kurt breathes out. “You would– you would really do that for me?”

Blaine hesitates, and then straightens his back, nodding with determination. “Sure. I mean, my couch is pretty comfortable, and besides, we’re both wet and cold and my apartment isn’t that far away anyway, and I assume you’re not going to murder me in my sleep with that sword or anything, or rob me or, I don’t know, take me for your prisoner so you can blackmail someone to help you get home or–” He notices Kurt’s amused smile and stops, ducking his head. “Sorry. I was rambling.”

“It’s alright,” Kurt assures him. “I just don’t want to impose. And I would never, ever hurt you in any way. You saved me, Blaine. I owe you my life.”

Blaine lifts his head, surprised by the conviction in Kurt’s voice. “You wouldn’t be imposing,” he says. “We can... We can figure out how to get you back home tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep. If you want my help, I mean.”

“That would be amazing,” Kurt says, reaching out to clasp Blaine’s hand, his eyes shining. “You are a very... A very brave and kind man, Blaine of New York. An exceptional man.”

Blaine laughs again, patting Kurt’s hand awkwardly. “I really am not, but thank you.”

He pulls his hand free, confused by the way the skin of his hand feels almost ticklish once Kurt lets go.

It must be the cold.

 

\---

 

Kurt is very fascinated by the elevator in Blaine’s apartment building. He’s very fascinated by everything, to be honest, but the elevator seems to confuse him more than anything else. He keeps asking Blaine how it works and why not use the stairs instead, and telling him that it must be magical when Blaine gives him vague answers – he might understand the basic principle of elevators, but it’s not like he’s an expert on them. At least he seems to know more than Kurt.

“Your buildings are very different from what I’m used to,” Kurt points out as they step out of the elevator.

“Really?” Blaine asks, pulling his keys from his pocket. “How so?”

“They’re higher, for starters,” Kurt explains, looking around the hallway. He looks confused, and suddenly Blaine can notice how uncomfortably he’s holding his shoulders, his whole body, actually, as if he’s not seeing anything familiar around himself. “And... narrower. I’m more used to big, empty spaces.”

Blaine stops and lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if my apartment’s the right place for you then.”

He turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open, gesturing for Kurt to step in first. Kurt gives him a small, thankful smile and then peeks inside, stopping right in the doorway. Blaine doesn’t know what Kurt expected his place to look like, but it really isn’t much – a single bedroom, a small living room and an even smaller kitchen, all of it cramped and a little drafty. He keeps the place clean, so there’s that at least, but there are still sheet music and books strewn all over the space, things that he has just placed down before rushing to work or falling asleep.

“Oh,” Kurt says, looking around. His voice isn’t unkind, just curious. “My rooms are at least two or three times bigger than this, just so you know,” he adds and glances at Blaine over his shoulder, grinning teasingly.

Blaine laughs, stepping inside himself and closing the door. “What, you live in a penthouse or something?”

“I don’t know what that word means,” Kurt replies haughtily, “but I do live in a castle. Is a penthouse your version of a castle?”

Blaine freezes. “Castle?” he repeats, suddenly feeling very poor and inadequate with his student loans and his job that’s more charity than a well-paid position. He’s still not sure whether or not he should believe everything that comes out of Kurt’s mouth, but somehow it’s not that difficult to picture him in a glorious castle, all shining, expensive clothes and plush rooms with pillars and draping tapestries.

Kurt hums. “But I like your house,” he says, taking a few slow steps around the living room, looking very much out of place in his cape and boots. “It looks very... comfortable. Like it’s your home and not just a place where you live.”

He gives Blaine a small smile, and Blaine can feel his cheeks heating up. “T-thanks,” he stutters. “I’ll– I’ll go find you some dry clothes. Those must be uncomfortable,” he says, gesturing at Kurt’s ensemble.

“They are, actually.” Kurt frowns down at his chest and pulls at the wet fabric of his tunic.

Blaine practically runs into his bedroom, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it. What was he thinking, inviting a complete stranger to his home this late in the evening? No matter how genuine or nice Kurt might seem, he’s still a stranger who keeps talking about castles and magic and–

He’s crazy. No, Blaine himself is crazy, getting involved in something like this when he was just telling Tina that he has already grown up and started living in the real world.

Blaine pushes his hands through his damp hair, ignoring the disgusting mess of gel and rainwater that his curls have become. He can’t kick Kurt out now. He just can’t. He’s not heartless. Maybe he’ll just have to let Kurt stay here for tonight, like he promised, and then tomorrow he can find out if he has escaped from some mental hospital or if he has robbed Blaine during the night and then disappeared into thin air.

It’s so strange – everything Kurt says sounds genuine, like there’s nothing out of the ordinary in living in a castle and not knowing how elevators work. Blaine might have gone through some intense zombie apocalypse theories during his time, but he still logically knows how improbable those are. He knows that all the things Kurt has said are just as improbable, that they just can’t be true, that there’s no way there’s an actual living and breathing fairytale prince standing in his living room.

This isn’t a dream. This is the real world. Blaine should know it.

But somehow he still can’t shake the feeling that Kurt is not lying. That even though it sounds unbelievable and mad, he’s telling the truth.

Blaine sighs and pulls his hands away from his hair, wincing at the gel remains on his fingers and wiping them off on his jeans. He’ll just deal with this tomorrow. This has been too complicated a day to deal with something like this right now, not without a shower and a few hours to let his mind properly wrap itself around everything. He moves to his dresser, rooting through it until he finds a clean pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt – they’re probably a bit too small for Kurt, because at least the attire he’s wearing right now makes him look a lot broader and taller than Blaine – but it’s the best he can do.

Kurt is sitting on the couch when Blaine comes back, running his fingers over Blaine’s acoustic guitar, and Blaine immediately notes how careful he is with his movements, as if he somehow instinctively knows how important that guitar is to Blaine.

“Here you go,” Blaine announces, placing the clothes on his coffee table. “They’re probably a bit small for you, but at least it’s better than wearing wet clothes.”

Kurt looks up, blinking his eyes as if he has been lost in his thoughts. “Oh. Thank you.”

Blaine fidgets under Kurt’s gaze. “I... I know they’re probably below your standards and not what you’re used to, if you live in a castle and all, so–”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts, his smile softening, “I’m sure they’re fine. Thank you.” He glances at the guitar again. “Do you play this instrument?”

Blaine stops, surprised by the sudden question. “Yes?” he answers, turning to look at the guitar himself. It’s old, worn-out after years and years of use, but that just means that it feels familiar in his hands. He sometimes feels like he knows his guitar better than he knows his own head or heart. “I mean, I can play the guitar and the piano, but it’s not like my apartment has enough space for a piano, so guitar it is,” he explains.

“That sounds amazing,” Kurt says, running his index finger over the guitar’s wooden body. “I’d love to hear you play someday.” He looks up at Blaine. “You must be very good at it.”

“It’s–” Blaine stutters, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “It’s more for work, really, I don’t... I don’t play that much outside of my work. Not unless I’m learning a new song or something.” Kurt’s eyes are boring into him, curious and almost a little... disappointed, and Blaine can’t seem to meet his gaze anymore. “You should change into those dry clothes,” he says instead, taking a step backwards. “I’ll go find some blankets for you; it gets pretty cold in here during the night.”

He rushes into his bedroom again, away from Kurt’s eyes that seem to see right inside of him, inside all those changes Blaine made to his life when love let him down one too many times. Kurt’s expression made him feel shaky, unsure for the first time in a long while, and he takes his time pulling the extra blankets from his closet, changing into some fresh clothes himself and throwing his wet and dirty clothes into the hamper, giving Kurt plenty of time to get finished.

“Kurt?” he calls out once he’s done, pushing his bedroom door open and peering into the living room. “Are you decen–”

His words trail off when he sees Kurt. Kurt is lying on the couch on his back, his head placed on one Blaine’s throw pillows, his eyes closed and his other hand resting over his slowly rising and falling chest. He has changed into Blaine’s clothes, and the pants are a little short on him, leaving his ankles bare; he has even pushed his toes between the sofa cushion and the arm rest to keep them warm. Kurt’s own clothes are folded neatly on the floor next to the couch, as far away from the guitar as possible, as if he was worried the dampness would damage the instrument somehow.

Blaine steps closer as quietly as he can, but Kurt doesn’t even stir, his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks as he sleeps. He looks... younger. Less like a prince and more like a regular man.

“I guess you really were tired,” Blaine says quietly.

He unfolds the blanket in his arms and spreads it carefully over Kurt’s body, making sure it covers him from neck to toe. Kurt shifts in his sleep, huddling closer to the warmth and letting out a pleased hum, his lips curling into a small smile, and Blaine can’t help the smile that spreads over his own face.

His hair is a mess, he has no idea where his boyfriend is or why he missed their date tonight, his best friend is worried about his love life, and there’s a strange man sleeping on his couch, looking surprisingly at home for someone who’s clearly very far away from home.

Yeah. Maybe he can deal with all of this tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to switch up the POVs a little, so this chapter is from Kurt’s. Next part might take a while, but it’s coming!

Kurt wakes up to sunlight.

He tries to close his eyes more tightly, but the bright light of the sun follows him even behind his eyelids, red and warm and blinding, and god, did he really forget to pull the curtains over the windows in his rooms again?

He lets out an annoyed sigh and tries to pull the covers over his head, and it’s only when his hand meets the unfamiliar soft fabric of the blanket over him that he realizes he’s not in his own bed.

Then it all comes back in a rush, as if his mind is suddenly waking up for real – bright colors exploding around him, the feeling of falling for a long, long time until he hit the ground and found himself in a completely unfamiliar place. Huge buildings, blinding lights, people who refuse to help him and instead just walk on by, magic that doesn’t work, rain, rain, rain, and even more _rain_.

... And Blaine. The only one who helped him, who saved him from that wagon-like thing. The man who has such guarded eyes but such a kind look in them as well; who looks like he’s constantly holding something back but still makes Kurt feel like everything will be alright with just a small upward tilt of his mouth.

Kurt blinks his eyes open. The ceiling above him has a few small cracks on it, tiny fissures running over the surface. He’s lying on a couch, his other hand hanging off it with the tips of his fingers brushing the floor, and the sunshine is coming from a large window right next to the couch, the thin curtains doing absolutely nothing to block it. And it’s... quiet. Or at least quieter than he’s used to – instead of hurrying steps in the corridors and birdsong in the trees outside his windows, the only things he can hear are the hum of the city outside and the different kind of a whisper of the house around him.

He pushes himself up slowly, looking around the strange apartment. His clothes have been folded loosely over a nearby chair so they would dry better, but his boots are still next to the couch. Kurt pushes his hand inside the boot for his left foot, searching until his fingers find the brooch he dropped there last night after he changed into the clothes Blaine gave him. He usually has it fastened on his tunic, but leaving it in plain sight in this strange place seemed risky.

To everyone else it’s just an old golden brooch that’s shaped like a small bird in flight, something Kurt’s mother gave him years and years ago, but to himself it’s so much more than that. He runs his fingers over its surface, frowning when he still can’t feel the familiar vibrations of magic underneath his touch. It’s like this place is blocking everything magical he owns and knows, and Kurt feels a little lost without it.

In here, his brooch is just a brooch.

He gets up and walks around the apartment slowly, still holding the brooch in his hand. The door to the other room is ajar, and Kurt glances in. Blaine is still sleeping, just the top of his head peeking out from underneath the covers, his hair wild and curly on the pillow, so different from last night, and Kurt smiles to himself before pulling the door closed and padding around the rest of the small apartment. He takes a cursory glance of the kitchen, of the neat and clean surfaces, and then returns back to the window next to the couch. There’s some sort of a metal staircase outside, and Kurt pushes the window open all the way, letting the fresh morning air wake him up for good as he looks around.

So this is New York.

There are people and more of those wagon-like things on the streets below, and the hum of the city gets stronger when Kurt steps over the window ledge and sits down on the creaky steps. All the buildings around him are huge, tall with so many windows that he can’t even hope to count them all. It makes him dizzy to think about how many different people must live in those houses, how many different lives are going on around him right now, and how strange those lives would probably seem like to him.

He’s so far away from home. He feels so different from those people down on the streets, hurrying somewhere in their wagons, and god, will he ever find a place where he just _fits_?

There are birds soaring high in the bright blue sky, and Kurt automatically whistles out a tune he has known by heart since childhood. One of the birds flies lower after a moment, beating its wings hesitantly, and Kurt whistles out again, his heart thudding inside his chest with hope.

The bird flies further down, making a few quick circles around the staircase, until it settles on the railing in front of Kurt. It flaps its wings before tucking them to its sides, and then looks at Kurt, as if in curiosity, tilting its head from left to right and shifting from one foot to the other.

Kurt smiles and whistles out again, changing the tune into something a little softer. The bird – it looks like a dove, but darker, rougher around the edges, more fitting to this city – tilts its head one more time and then coos at Kurt, repeating the melody back to him with a soft crooning sound, and Kurt can feel his face breaking into a wide grin.

“Kurt?”

The voice startles Kurt from his thoughts, and he glances back inside the house. Blaine is standing in the living room, looking around like he’s still half-asleep.

“I’m here,” Kurt calls out softly, trying not to startle the bird. “On the staircase.”

“Oh.” Blaine trudges closer and leans his hands on the windowsill, peering out. “I was just– is that a _pigeon_?”

Kurt looks back at the bird who has shifted a little further away from them. “It’s a bird, yes.” He whistles out another short melody, and after a moment’s hesitation the bird – pigeon, apparently – straightens its neck and repeats it back to him. It even adds a few more trills at the end, and Kurt snorts. “Show-off,” he scolds with a smile, and the bird seems to preen.

“You’re talking to a bird,” Blaine says slowly. “I’m still dreaming, right?”

Kurt lets out a laugh. “No, in Kingleysia we have whistling or singing competitions with the birds all the time. Don’t you?”

Blaine lowers himself slowly on the ledge, keeping his eyes on the bird, and then leans his back against the window frame. “Not really? I mean, I guess some people have conversations with their pet parrots or feed the birds in the park, but I don’t think–”

He trails off when the pigeon suddenly ruffles its feathers as if it’s bored with the conversation already. Kurt turns to look at it, whistling out a short questioning sound. The bird coos back and then stretches its wings, flapping them slowly a few times before it pushes itself away from the railing and, with one last look at Kurt, flies off into the sky.

“Did I interrupt something?” Blaine asks warily, still frozen in place. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“No, he was just hungry and decided to continue his journey,” Kurt replies and leans his arms against his knees. He looks back at Blaine, at the dark circles underneath his eyes and the mess his curly hair is, and smiles. “Good morning.”

Blaine blinks his eyes and then laughs, shaking his head. “Morning,” he says. “I’m sorry, I was just–” He gestures towards the house with his hand. “I was so sure that you would have disappeared during the night with my money or my guitar, and then the couch was empty and– I’m sorry,” he repeats awkwardly.

Kurt shrugs, playing with the brooch he’s still holding in his hands. “No need. You live alone and let a complete stranger sleep in your home. I would’ve been worried too.”

Blaine hums. “Still.” He looks around the staircase, his lips turning into a soft smile. The air is chilly and it smells different than the air Kurt is used to in Kingleysia, but Blaine doesn’t seem to mind as he breathes it in – as if he likes being in this city, as if just seeing it first thing in the morning makes him feel more alive.

Kurt wishes he knew how that felt.

“What’s that?” Blaine asks after a moment, nodding towards the brooch.

“Oh.” Kurt stills his hands. “It’s a– My mother gave it to me when I was younger. It’s a detail from our family crest, and...” He hesitates, taking in Blaine’s curious expression. “Well, ideally it should help me get in contact with my dad wherever I am,” he explains, “but apparently something about this city is blocking its magic.” He turns the brooch over in his hands again, staring at it with his brows furrowed. The surface gleams in the morning sunlight, the golden bird looking like it’s ready to actually take flight right there and then, just like the pigeon, but the metal still feels cold and lifeless against Kurt’s fingers.

“Blocking its magic,” Blaine repeats slowly.

Kurt looks up, and suddenly the strange tone in Blaine’s voice makes sense. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I mean I...” Blaine bites his lip and runs his hand through his messy curls. “I believe that _you_ believe everything you’re saying, but it just... It makes no sense to me, Kurt. All this talk about magic and singing competitions with birds, it’s something that’s just not real, not to me, and I don’t know what–”

There’s a faint ringing sound coming from the apartment all of a sudden, and Blaine glances towards it over his shoulder, a frown appearing on his forehead.

“So you don’t believe me,” Kurt says again, an unpleasant twinge of hurt in his chest. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you, just because your world doesn’t have something mine has? Just because you're not used to magic?”

“No, I– I never said that,” Blaine argues. “I just–” The ringing continues, and Blaine pushes himself up, an urgent look in his eyes. “I’m– Sorry, I need to answer that.”

He disappears inside, and Kurt follows, closing the window behind himself, leaving the birds and the hum of the city outside. He watches as Blaine snatches a small device from the kitchen table and moves his fingers over its screen in a practiced way before lifting it to his ear. Kurt saw several people using similar devices yesterday when he was wandering around the city, and even when they were walking to Blaine’s apartment last night he noticed Blaine glancing at the thing every now and then, as if he was waiting for a message or something. It must be this world’s version of Kurt’s brooch, and somehow that makes it even more hurtful that Blaine doesn’t believe him.

“Nathan?” Blaine is saying to the device. “Are you okay? You didn’t call last night, and I was worried that–”

Kurt tries not to listen in, he really does, but it’s not like he has anywhere else to go. Blaine’s face is a weird combination of different emotions, but then something the person on the other end of the device – Kurt can barely make out a quiet, tinny voice coming from it – says makes his face fall.

“Oh,” Blaine answers, leaning his hip against the table in one slow movement. “You were caught at work. I... I see. No, no, it’s okay, I was just worried something had happened and you didn’t even text me back, so...”

Kurt moves to the couch, placing his brooch on the small table next to it and trying to busy himself with folding the blanket as neatly as he can.

“Today? I’m... I’m busy today, Nathan. Okay, but do you have time before work on Monday?” Blaine’s voice rises, even if it’s obvious he’s trying to keep it down for Kurt’s sake. “Well what's so important that it can’t wait until Monday? You were the one who didn’t show up last night–”

There are more words from the device, a little louder this time, interrupting Blaine’s sentence, and when Kurt looks over his shoulder, he can see Blaine pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired expression.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, I– I know you were at work, okay, I’m sorry. I just wish you would’ve texted me, that’s all.” He sighs. “Alright, alright, I’ll see you on Monday then. I love– Okay, bye.”

Blaine lowers the device from his ear, staring at it with a frown, something unreadable but still undoubtedly sad hiding in his eyes. He looks resigned, like he’s physically holding himself back from something, and Kurt remembers how weary he looked last night, outside in the rain all by himself.

Yet he still stopped to help Kurt, even though he didn’t have to.

“Who was that?” Kurt asks carefully, straightening his back and turning to face Blaine. “I’m assuming that device is some sort of a communication thing.”

Blaine nods, placing the device back on the table. “Yeah, it’s a... phone. You can contact people with it, if they’re far away,” he says absent-mindedly, still staring at the thing. “That was my boyfriend,” he adds after a moment.

“Boyfriend?” Kurt repeats, and he can feel his breath catching in his throat. It couldn’t. It can’t be. “Like a... betrothed?”

Blaine looks up, scrunching his nose. “Well, not anything so serious, I suppose, but yeah. Kind of.”

“And he’s a... He’s a man?” Kurt asks hesitantly. He starts wringing his hands nervously, a childhood habit that his tutors always tried to get rid of but that still never really went away.

Blaine’s shoulders tense. “Yes. He’s a man. Because I’m gay.”

Kurt swallows roughly, staring at Blaine. He never even thought there could be a place where someone could just talk about it like that, like it’s nothing extraordinary. “Is that the word you use for someone who... is a man and also likes men?”

“Yes.” Blaine crosses his arms over his chest, searching Kurt’s face. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Kurt shakes his head immediately, warmth flooding his cheeks. “No, of course not. I just never knew there was a word for it. For... me, I suppose,” he adds, almost making the sentence sound like a question.

Blaine blinks and lowers his arms. “You’re gay?” he asks, his voice no longer wary or tense, but full of something else, something like understanding.

“Yes.” Kurt’s hands are moving even faster, fingers sliding over the sweaty skin of his palm with every nervous thud of his heart. “If that means... Is it okay here?” he can’t help but ask. “Is it okay to be like this in here?”

Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it. “Well, not everyone thinks it’s okay,” he says eventually, keeping his voice even, neutral, “and the attitudes used to be a lot worse, but these days most people think it’s just as natural as... the other alternative. We have the same rights as everyone else and can get married and adopt children and all that. It’s not like that in every part of the world, not yet, but it is in New York. And in many other places as well.”

Kurt feels dizzy all of a sudden, and he stumbles backwards until his legs hit the couch. He sinks down on it and lifts his hand to his chest, feeling his heart racing underneath his palm. He never even dared to dream that it could be something... _normal_ , something that most people would accept without a doubt. It was always that one thing that separated him from everyone else, the one thing that made sure he would never fit into his role as a prince, no matter what his dad said or what kind of royal blood was running through his veins.

It was always a problem, something that couldn’t be talked about, and to Blaine it’s just a natural part of his life.

“Kurt?” Blaine moves closer, sitting down on the couch next to him but leaving enough space between them. “Are you okay?”

Kurt chokes out a laugh and shakes his head, overwhelmed by everything. “You’re the second person I’ve told,” he admits, and he can see Blaine’s eyes widening in surprise. “My dad knows, has always known,” he goes on, “and he has always been so supportive about it, has always accepted me just as I am, but it’s... It’s not something that’s generally talked about in Kingleysia.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks, his voice confused.

“There’s me,” Kurt says, his voice strained, “and I’ve heard of a few others, people who live in the nearby towns and are apparently free to be themselves, so it’s not like it’s against the law or something, but it’s...” He takes a deep breath. “It’s not something a prince is supposed to be,” he recites.

“You’re not allowed to be yourself?”

Blaine's question is quiet, but somehow it feels like it echoes around the room, filling all the empty spaces inside Kurt’s body. Because that’s what it has always been about, hasn’t it? About not being able to be himself, about not fitting in, no matter how hard his dad tries to make things easier for him. Because Kurt knows the people of Kingleysia would never accept him.

“Like I said, you’re the second person I’ve told,” he replies, looking up and blinking his eyes quickly when he feels the wetness in them.

He can see from the corner of his eye how Blaine reaches out towards him and then hesitates, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air, until he places it on Kurt’s shoulder and squeezes gently. Kurt swallows again, trying not to lean into the touch.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you can be yourself around me,” Blaine offers.

Kurt can’t help it; he snorts, shrugging Blaine’s touch off. “And how’s that supposed to happen? You don’t even believe me.”

He picks up the brooch and closes his hand around it again, letting its sharp corners dig into his palm. He will never feel at home in Kingleysia because of his... orientation, and in this place, where it apparently doesn’t matter that he wants to find a prince instead of a princess, he would never fit in either, just because he’s not from around here and everything he says sounds unbelievable to the locals, to people like Blaine.

He senses more than sees Blaine get up from the couch, turning his back on him, and he blinks the last traces of tears from his eyes, waiting for the inevitable moment when Blaine either kicks him out or tells him he’s crazy and _then_ kicks him out.

But Blaine only pauses a few steps away from the couch, his fingers flexing on his sides before he whirls around to look at Kurt again.

“That brooch,” he says abruptly, “you said you can use it to contact your dad? No matter where you are?”

Kurt looks up and nods, confused by the sudden change in topic.

“So it’s like my phone,” Blaine goes on, placing his hands on his hips, “except right now it doesn’t work because something's blocking it. Right?”

Kurt frowns. “Yes,” he drawls, “that’s what I said.”

“So maybe it’s not being blocked,” Blaine continues, his eyes starting to shine like he’s getting excited. “Maybe there’s just no signal. Or there’s bad reception, depending on how it works.”

“I’m not following,” Kurt says.

“Look, I know all these things about magic and kingdoms are something I’m not familiar with,” Blaine admits, gesturing with his hands for emphasis, “and I may not believe in them – but I’m willing to try. And I want to help.”

Kurt just stares at him, but he can feel his grip on the brooch loosening, the sharp edges no longer pressing almost painfully against his skin. There’s that smile again, that upward tilt of Blaine’s mouth that makes his whole face glow and makes Kurt feel like things will be alright after all.

“I mean, if you came here from Kingleysia, we could assume that the signal would be stronger at the place where you arrived,” Blaine explains, his eyebrows looking like small triangles from the force of his excitement. “Because it must have been something magical that brought you here, right? So maybe the... whatever it is that makes your brooch work–”

“–might work there as well,” Kurt finishes for him, something warm blooming in his chest. “So if I went back there, I could maybe get in contact with my dad and find out what’s going on.”

Blaine grins. “I thinks it’s worth a shot.”

 

\---

 

They get quite a few curious stares when they step out of Blaine’s building and start walking towards the spot where they met last night – Kurt figures he’ll be able to remember his way back from there – and when Kurt takes a look around and then at himself, he can guess why. He’s the only one wearing a cape and a tunic, and he sees no one else with a sword hanging from their belt either.

Which kind of makes him wonder if this city has no dragon or goblin problems.

Walking next to him, Blaine is wearing a pair of well-fitting pants made from a thick dark blue fabric, something a lot of people in New York seem to like to wear, and a grey coat that looks quite good on him. Actually, Kurt has seen a lot of good-looking clothes in this city ever since his arrival, and a part of him wishes he could try some of them on. He has always liked clothes, has always gotten an excited thrill when he gets to combine different articles into one impressive look, and even though he has made some of his clothes himself ever since he was young, he can’t unfortunately experiment as much as he’d liked to as a prince.

There are so many things he can’t do because he’s the prince.

“I have to say,” he comments when they’ve been walking for a while and his neck is starting to hurt from the way he keeps looking at the city around them in curiosity, “that I find it kind of funny that you don’t believe in magic when that water thing you have in your apartment is obviously magical.”

“You mean the shower?” Blaine corrects him, and Kurt can hear the grin in his voice. “I told you, the water comes from the pipes. It’s basic technology.” He shrugs. “Nothing magical about it.”

“But what if all that technology is just your world’s version of magic?” Kurt argues. “What if it’s the same thing, like with your phone and my brooch, but it’s all just based on different things?”

Blaine laughs. He has a lovely laugh, when he’s laughing genuinely and not just trying to be polite. “Calm down,” he chastises with a smile. “We’re almost there.”

“You’re happy,” Kurt observes, grinning back at him. He can’t help it. “Even though you obviously didn’t have a very nice conversation with your true love this morning.”

Blaine’s smile falters, and Kurt immediately regrets his words. He almost asked more about the man that’s obviously Blaine’s true love, about Nathan, when they were still at the apartment, just because he’s never met anyone like him before – anyone who’s _gay_ and can also act on it – but then he was allowed to use the magical shower and needed to get his clothes in order, and it slipped his mind. But he is curious. It’s just that the expression on Blaine’s face makes him feel like he shouldn’t ask.

“It’s not like that,” Blaine says eventually, pushing his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really... believe in true love, or anything like that, I suppose. Isn’t that the sign you were talking to last night?” he changes the topic.

Kurt halts in his steps and then rushes after Blaine, cape swishing behind him. “You don’t believe in true love?” he repeats incredulously. “Are you joking? I can sort of understand that you don’t believe in magic if it’s something your world doesn’t have, but I’ve only been here for less than a day and I’ve already seen people on the streets who are clearly in love,” he says, staring at Blaine, even though he can tell he’s closing off already. “How can you not believe in love, Blaine? That's insane!”

“It’s... Never mind.” Blaine stops next to the palace-shaped sign and looks around. “Where to now? Do you remember any landmarks you passed on your way here?”

“Blaine,” Kurt tries, trying to meet his eyes.

“It’s complicated,” Blaine replies, his forehead creasing into a frown. “Now, seriously. Which way from here?”

Kurt looks at him for a moment, horrified that someone could say that they don’t believe in true love, but eventually he sighs and gestures to the left. He does want to talk to his dad, and getting into an argument will only slow him down. “That way. I came from there.”

It takes them a long while, but thanks to Kurt’s memory and Blaine’s local knowledge, they do eventually find the secluded alley where Kurt found himself last night after falling down for a very long time. The walls around the alley look dirtier in daylight, and Kurt wrinkles his nose at the garbage cans lining them. He really hopes there aren’t any rats running around. You can’t have nice singing competitions with rats.

“This is where you arrived?” Blaine asks, kicking a small piece of something unidentifiable further away from them. “Your magic has a rubbish sense of humor,” he jokes, glancing at Kurt with a grin that makes him look like a little kid who made his very first pun.

“It thankfully looked better when it was dark,” Kurt sniffs and rests his other hand on his sword. “And I guess this was inconspicuous enough.”

Blaine purses his lips and takes a few steps down the alley. “Well? Is your brooch finding any reception?”

Kurt clasps his hand around the brooch, now fastened on his tunic again. Its surface does feel warmer, but it could be just from the sunlight. He follows Blaine, taking slow steps around the alley and focusing on his brooch and– _there_ , right when he walks past the third garbage can he can feel a faint humming against his palm, and he could cry from joy. He thought this was a long shot, but it is magic, his mother’s magic, faint but still there, traces of it lingering to the alley’s air after his arrival.

He takes the brooch off and holds it in front of his face, the metal practically trembling now. “Dad?” he calls out, ignoring the desperation in his voice. “Dad, can you hear me?”

Blaine turns to look at him, his face thankfully not showing any signs of disbelief, and Kurt moves the brooch up and down, left and right, trying to find the place where the magic is the strongest. The golden bird is vibrating against his skin, the energy crackling and stuttering around it, but it all evens out into a familiar constant hum when Kurt moves the brooch a little closer to the ground.

“ _Kurt? Son?_ ”

His dad’s voice suddenly echoes faintly around the alley, almost breaking up, as if it was coming from the brooch and the connection wasn’t still strong enough. The metal whirs with it, and Kurt holds it more tightly, letting out an overwhelmed laugh.

Blaine jumps back, staring at him with wide eyes. “Oh my god,” he breathes out. "You heard that as well?"

“Dad?” Kurt calls out again. “Dad, it’s me!”

The air around the brooch crackles once more, the metal getting warmer, and then a small ball of light forms right above it, above Kurt’s hand, radiating warmth and magic. The light heaves and ripples gently until Kurt can make out his dad’s face from it, and god, just seeing him again after less than one day makes him feel more like home.

“Holy shit,” Blaine gasps on the other side of the light, taking another step back. “I’m in Star Wars.”

“ _Kurt, thank goodness_ ,” his dad is saying, his face breaking into a relieved smile that shines almost as brightly as the magic. “ _I was so worried, are you alright?_ ”

“I’m fine, dad, don’t worry.” Kurt laughs again, the sound ending in a hiccup. “Except I’m in a strange place and I have no idea what I’m doing here and want to come home, but...”

The magic ripples again, his dad’s face disappearing for a moment and then appearing again, but now Kurt can clearly make out the embarrassed cringe on his face. “ _Well, about that..._ ”

Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes, his shoulders slumping. Of course. He should’ve known. “Please don’t tell me this is another one of Rachel’s experiments gone wrong.”

His dad won’t meet his eyes, and it makes Kurt frown. “ _Not... gone wrong as such._ ”

Kurt glances at Blaine over the magic’s lights, sees him with his back against the wall and his eyes still wide and bulging, looking like they’re about to pop out of their sockets.

“Dad,” he says slowly. “What do you mean? Why am I here?”

His dad rubs the back of his neck. He’s not wearing his crown, so he must be in his private chambers where only family members and the oldest servants are allowed. It doesn’t make sense that he’s being so careful with his words.

“ _Look, Kurt_ ,” his dad starts, “ _you’re over twenty-four already. It’s high time that you went on your own adventure, to gather some experience and to find your own path. Maybe even find your true love. We’ve talked about this before. It’s a tradition in our family._ ”

“We have talked about this, but in those conversations it was never mentioned that I would be dropped into some unknown place that doesn’t have magic,” Kurt argues, his voice rising. “What is going on, dad? Why am I here?”

Burt sighs. “ _Well, that unknown place sort of is your adventure. We discussed it with Rachel, and she said she had an idea for a place that would be perfect for your journey, and–_ ”

“And you didn’t think to include me in these talks?” Kurt exclaims. He can see Blaine flinch on the other side of the alley, but he doesn’t care.

“ _That’s where the experiment part comes in_ ,” Burt says, rubbing his neck again, looking genuinely distressed. “ _I was going to talk to you about it at first, but it was very experimental, bud – Rachel wasn’t sure if she would even be able to send you there and she said she would do some tests and... Well, apparently one of her tests worked before I got the chance to talk to you about it. You know she’s still getting used to her strength._ ”

“Dad.” Kurt can hear his own voice break. “Dad, you’ve got to make her bring me home. This place is completely different from Kingleysia and–”

Burt face turns sad, and Kurt can feel a weight drop down in his stomach.

“She doesn’t know how to bring me back, does she?” he whispers.

“ _She’s working on it_ ,” his dad promises, “ _and as soon as she figures it out, we’ll pull you back. But I need to be honest with you, Kurt – it could take a while. Rachel’s not even sure how she managed to send you there, and..._ ”

“So I’m stuck here?” Kurt spits out. The magic heaves and pulses again, the warmth against his palm starting to fade, and he knows the connection is starting to break, that the distance between Kingleysia and New York is just too much for a simple magical brooch, but he can’t say anything else, too upset by his current situation. “I’m stuck in this place for god knows how long? Dad, that’s not an adventure, that’s madness!”

“ _Kurt_ ,” Burt says slowly, obviously trying to calm him down, “ _trust me, I'm not happy about this either. Rachel has done nothing but apologized and cried ever since you disappeared. But I also know how miserable you’ve been here for most of your life. I know that you haven’t been able to be yourself and that you hate your court duties–_ ”

“I don’t hate them,” Kurt counters angrily.

“ _– and that you’ve felt like you haven’t gotten the chance to spread your own wings_ ,” his dad goes on. “ _I know this is sudden and unexpected, but this adventure – that strange place you’re in? That’s your chance, son. Rachel thought you could really enjoy being there, and sometimes I think she knows you better than I do. You’ve gotta give it a chance. Give yourself a chance, at last._ ”

“But dad–” Kurt tries, but the magic starts crackling around the brooch again, and his dad’s face disappears from view for a long moment before it flickers back again, the edges of the image rolling and pulsing.

“ _I love you, Kurt_ ,” his dad says fiercely, reaching out his hand towards him even though there’s no way he could actually touch him. Kurt can barely make out his eyes through the fluttering magic, but they look worried. “ _Stay safe, have your adventure, and we’ll bring you back as soon as we can. I promise._ ”

The ball of light shudders like it’s about to explode, and Kurt closes his hand tightly around the brooch, feeling something wet falling down his cheeks.

“Dad,” he calls out weakly. “Please don’t–”

“ _I know you’ll make me proud_ ,” his dad says, and then the light pulses one last time before it shatters into tiny flecks of magic, the image disappearing completely.

The brooch is starting to feel colder again, but Kurt can still feel the faint connection, can still feel his dad’s presence in the dirty alley. The magic makes the air around him crackle and twist, wind howling in his ear even though he knows it shouldn’t be possible, but when he looks around he sees Blaine shielding his eyes with his hands, his coat flapping in the air, and he can feel his own cape pulling against his neck.

There’s a small pull from the brooch, the magic trying to push itself out one last time, but then the connection shatters, specks of magic collapsing around Kurt until they fade out and disappear into the air. The brooch gives one last hum before going cold, and the last traces of Kingleysia, of everything Kurt's familiar with, disappear completely, fading into the alleyway and leaving nothing behind.

Kurt blinks his eyes. Blaine is standing a few feet from him, swaying on the spot, and when he lowers his hand he’s staring at Kurt like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. The wind isn’t blowing anymore, and Kurt’s own hand falls down, the brooch cold and lifeless against his palm.

“... Kurt?” Blaine asks after a moment, taking a hesitant step closer.

“I guess I’m stuck here then,” Kurt says, his voice breaking, and when Blaine carefully places his hand on his shoulder, he lets himself lean into the touch this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter refused to play nice, but here it is, finally! Thank you for the comments and kudos; they make my day. ♥

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says.

They’re sitting on a park bench on a low hill, away from the little children running around the park’s pond and the young couples smooching on the benches down below. It’s sunny, like it has been all day, but their bench is slightly shadowed by a few nearby trees, giving them a comfortable shade from the harsh fall sunlight.

The space is open and full of nature’s voices, something Blaine figured might be good for Kurt right now. Once the connection to Kingleysia broke off Kurt looked practically claustrophobic, his hands trembling as he tried to fasten the brooch back to his tunic – it took him four tries, and even after he succeeded he kept straightening it, as if it wasn’t done properly – so Blaine guided him to the nearest park, away from the looming buildings and busy streets. He doesn’t know if it’s helping at all, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Kurt turns his gaze away from the two pigeons that are picking at the ground next to the trees. He has pulled his cape more securely around his shoulders, and he looks younger again, even though Blaine now knows that he’s actually one year older than him. It’s weird, in a way – last night when he saw Kurt for the first time he thought he looked strong, the shape of his cape and tunic accentuating his shoulders and chest; but now Kurt’s almost curling in on himself, the cape wrapped around his body like a shield.

“What are you sorry for?” Kurt asks, voice small and confused.

“For everything, I suppose?” Blaine shrugs awkwardly. He glances around the park, wondering what the city looks like through Kurt’s eyes. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck here against your will. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Kurt’s mouth twitches with the beginnings of a small smile. “So you believe me now, then?”

Blaine gives a quiet laugh. “It’s kind of hard not to when I just saw you talking to your dad who’s in another... world?” He tilts his head in consideration. “Dimension? I don’t know which word would be more accurate. I should probably brush up on speculative fiction.”

“Same here,” Kurt says, “even if I have no idea what that is.” He looks back to the pigeons, his face closing off again.

Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it, biting on his lower lip. He wants to ask more, wants Kurt to tell him more about Kingleysia now that it’s undeniable that the place actually exists. Blaine’s mind is still whirring with everything he has witnessed this morning, and he has so many questions, as if his inner geek has suddenly reared its head and refuses to back down again. He didn’t really have any clue what he was doing when he suggested going back to the place where Kurt arrived – he wasn’t just humoring Kurt, he genuinely wanted to help him, but at the same time the rational part of his mind kept telling him how insane it all was.

But he saw it. He saw the magic pulsing and glowing around Kurt’s brooch, saw the connection between his world and Kurt’s. He felt it as well: the warmth of the magic, almost like electricity crackling through air, or the quivering heat over asphalt on a hot summer day. Like the smell that lingers after fireworks, even if it feels almost unfair to compare the magic he felt to such mundane things when what Blaine saw was clearly something extraordinary.

“Go ahead,” Kurt interrupts his thoughts. “I can practically hear you thinking, and I know you must have questions.”

Blaine startles, his head twisting around to Kurt. Kurt is still looking at the pigeons, his sharp profile the only thing Blaine can see, but he’s definitely smiling now, even if he hasn’t let go of his cape yet.

“I don’t want to seem rude,” Blaine admits, scratching his neck in embarrassment.

“Blaine.” Kurt glances at him, amusement shining from his eyes, and it’s a much better look on him than the emptiness Blaine saw in his eyes on the alley. “I’m probably going to bombard you with questions about New York once I actually get used to the idea of being stuck here,” he points out and gives a lopsided shrug with his other shoulder. “Might as well return the favor in advance.”

“Right.” Blaine clasps his hands together in his lap. “Should I then just–” He raises his eyebrows, and Kurt nods, barely hiding a grin. “I suppose I– Could you tell me what all that talk about adventures was about?”

Kurt straightens his back. “Well, like my dad said, it’s a tradition in our family,” he explains. “All the members of the royal family are supposed to have their own adventure before they turn twenty-five – to learn more about the world and themselves, to gather experience that could turn out to be handy in the future, and to help them become better rulers.” He lifts his hand almost unconsciously and starts fiddling with the brooch again, slow and careful movements of his fingers against its golden surface. “I mean, the tradition has spread around Kingleysia during the past few decades, so it’s not just us that do it anymore. Most people do it when they turn twenty, but I... I never knew what I wanted to do for my adventure, so I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“What do people usually do for their adventures then?” Blaine asks, tilting his head. A part of him want to reach out and still Kurt’s hand, hold it in his own to show him that he’s really listening, but he clasps his hands more tightly in his lap, fighting against the urge.

“Oh, my dad spent some time in a nearby town, for example, building houses and fixing broken wagons,” Kurt goes on, looking up at the sky and blinking his eyes against the sun. “He always says that it taught him a lot about life, in some weird way. And I guess a lot of people just travel around Kingleysia, or go explore the mountains where the dragons usually hunt. It can be a lot of different things.” He kicks his feet, stretching his legs out in front of him. “And, well, of course some people use their adventure to find their true love.”

Blaine freezes. “True love?”

Kurt nods, a sudden dreamy smile lighting up his face. Blaine can see that he’s staring at the couple sitting on one of the benches below, an older man and a woman with graying hair who are leaning against each other’s shoulders and talking in quiet voices, the sunshine lighting up their faces when they both suddenly laugh at something.

“That’s what I would’ve wanted to do,” Kurt says. “To go on an adventure and find my true love.” The smile slips away from his face, and he blinks his eyes quickly, as if he’s coming back from a daydream he wishes he could live in. “But I couldn’t. Obviously,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Because everyone would’ve expected me to come back with a princess and... It just wasn’t possible.”

“You really believe in true love?” Blaine can’t help but ask, keeping his voice carefully even. “In all that ‘love conquers all’ stuff?”

Kurt huffs out a laugh. “Of course I do! Why on earth wouldn’t I? It’s always been so difficult being... _gay_ ,” he glances to Blaine, as if to make sure he’s using the word correctly, “in Kingleysia, but thinking about true love made it feel a little easier.” He smiles again, something sad hiding behind his eyes. “Knowing that someone out there must be the person for me, and one day we’d meet and fall in love and all the pain would be worth it.” His smile dims, and he looks away from the older couple. “And I wouldn’t have to feel so alone anymore.”

Blaine swallows uncomfortably, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He feels cold all of a sudden. “I guess this true love is a big thing in Kingleysia?”

“Oh, it’s huge,” Kurt replies, nodding and widening his eyes for emphasis. “It’s the one thing everyone’s looking for – for that moment you look into someone’s eyes and the whole world just _stops_. Your heart starts beating faster and you get butterflies in your stomach and you just need to tell everyone how you feel and–” He trails off with a laugh and shakes his head, as if he has to contain himself to not get too carried away. “It’s so romantic. There are always these huge public declarations of love happening on the town square, and the maids can’t stop gossiping about who has found his or her true love and how they’re getting married in a few days after their first meeting and–”

“A few days after their first meeting?” Blaine interrupts, shocked. “You can’t be serious.”

“No, it’s actually quite normal in Kingleysia,” Kurt replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, when you meet your true love, you just know that they’re right for you. So why prolong the inevitable?”

“B-but that’s... That’s insane,” Blaine splutters. Kurt turns to look at him, his eyes confused and even a little hurt. “You can’t get married to someone you just met!”

“Why not?” Kurt asks sharply, and it’s not even a rhetorical question, Blaine can tell; he’s genuinely puzzled why people shouldn’t get married so soon.

“Because... You’re supposed to date,” Blaine starts lamely, gesturing with his hands.

“Date?” Kurt’s forehead is creased, like he’s never heard of the concept before.

“It’s when you go out,” Blaine tries to explain, “for dinner or to see a show, or just have a conversation with the other person and get to know them.” He’s starting to feel even more uncomfortable, all this talking about love and marriage reminding him of things he’d rather not think about, but he won’t back down now, not when he was the one who started this. “You’re supposed to get to know them really well and find out if you work together,” he goes on, “and if your relationship has even the slightest chance of success, and even after that you can’t really know if it will work out. It’s...” He hesitates, wondering how to phrase it. “It’s not prolonging the inevitable, it’s making sure you’re making the right choice.”

Kurt blinks. “But there’s no need for that with true love. When it’s true love, you just _know_. That’s the whole idea.”

“That’s just attraction,” Blaine argues. “You can’t base a relationship on basic attraction. That’s like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“It’s not just attraction.” Kurt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Attraction isn’t powerful enough to make people get married after just a few days or shout out their love from the rooftops.” He side-eyes Blaine. “And before you ask: yes, rooftops are quite popular places in Kingleysia.”

Blaine snorts, rubbing his hand over his face. “You have to know that it doesn’t always work like that. It doesn’t probably work like that even most of the time,” he contradicts. “It’s not all true love and serenades and happily ever after.”

“It is when you find the right person,” Kurt points out, almost annoyingly stubborn.

“It’s not,” Blaine repeats, his voice rising even though he’s trying his hardest to keep his frustration from coming through. “Because how can you even know who is the right person? It’s already a miracle to find someone you like and who likes you back, someone who doesn’t drive you completely crazy and who’s willing to give you a chance, and even something like that can self-destruct at any time. There’s no guarantee. That’s what I’m trying to say. People change, and commitment doesn’t mean anything when that happens.”

He knows how bitter his voice has gotten, knows that if he was talking to Tina she would’ve leaned in quietly to hug him already, and then he would have probably started to cry because his emotions can sometimes be treacherous like that. Kurt is keeping his distance, though, his arms still crossed over his chest. He looks strong again, stubborn and ready for a fight, not at all as young as he did only less than thirty minutes ago.

“You really don’t believe in true love,” Kurt states. He’s staring at Blaine, searching his face with narrowed eyes as if he thinks he’s lying. “I thought you were joking earlier, but you honestly don’t believe in it.”

“I don’t,” Blaine admits with a shrug. “At least not in the version you’re describing. The version I know, the one that’s common in this world, is the one that’s messy and unpredictable and fleeting and–” He swallows. “There are no happily ever afters. You can’t rely on something like that.”

Kurt looks away, not meeting Blaine’s eyes for a long moment. He looks confused, angry even, his brows furrowed and his nostrils flared, as if everything Blaine has said is completely unbelievable to him. The older couple they were watching earlier has left already, the bench they were sitting on empty, and Blaine feels a little bad for being so harsh on Kurt’s faith in love after everything else that has happened this morning. He didn’t mean to, but looking at Kurt is like looking at himself from a few years ago – innocent and gullible and just waiting to get hurt – and he doesn’t want Kurt to go through the same awful, heart-breaking things he did.

“Look,” he starts, leaning closer, “I’m sorry if I upset you, but I just... I wanted you to see that true love doesn’t happen for everyone. It doesn’t always work out the way you want it to.”

“I know that.” Kurt twists back to look at him, his gaze steady, almost challenging. “My mom died when I was eight, you know. My dad lost his true love too soon, so I know very well that it doesn’t always work out the way it’s supposed to.”

Blaine jerks back. God, he’s an awful person. “Kurt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

“I know you didn’t,” Kurt interrupts calmly. He takes a deep breath. “It was hard on us both for a long time – hard on the whole kingdom – but we made it through. And a few years ago my dad met Carole, my step-mother, and got another chance with true love. He’s happy again – in a different way than he was with my mother, because Carole is different and she has never even tried to replace my mom – but still.” He touches the brooch on his chest once again, more deliberately this time. “I’m just saying that I’m well aware that it doesn’t always end happily. But when I asked him about it once, my dad said that he would do it all over again if he got the chance. That in the end, true love is always worth it. Even when it’s hard, you’re still willing to try.” He looks up at the trees, following their movement in the breeze with his eyes. “And I suppose that’s kind of a happily ever after in its own way as well.”

Blaine frowns down at the ground. Has he ever had a relationship that has truly felt worth it when it has ended? He doesn’t think he has.

“I just... I don’t see it that way,” he admits. “Sorry.”

“Well, what about you and Nathan?” Kurt points out, leaning back against the bench. “You love him, don’t you?”

Blaine startles. “I... I think I do? We’re not relying on happily ever after or anything, but we... work.”

Kurt’s head whips around to face him, and honestly, Blaine doesn’t understand how on earth the high sweep of his hair manages to stay in place in this wind and with all the sudden movements he does when Blaine himself can barely manage to gel his own hair down to submission every morning.

“He does know that you love him, right?” Kurt says slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“Um.” Blaine blinks his eyes. He thinks about Nathan, thinks about the distance he felt between them when they were talking on the phone earlier today, thinks about the way Nathan sometimes looks so resigned when Blaine suggests going out for dinner together.

But they’re still doing fine, aren’t they? They work.

“I don’t think I have to do anything extraordinary to let him know how I feel,” he settles on. “I’ve been done with overly dramatic romantic gestures for years already.”

“Blaine.” Kurt rolls his eyes like he’s being stupid. “You can’t just assume things like that. Why do you think the people in Kingleysia shout out their feelings from the rooftops or why the flower business is so profitable around the whole kingdom? Even when it’s true love, you still have to let the other person know.” He goes on before Blaine has the chance to interrupt, “And I know you said you don’t believe in true love, blah-blah-blah, but he still deserves to know how you feel. As often as possible. No wonder he was so cross with you this morning,” he adds.

Blaine swallows again, his throat dry. “What do you mean?”

Kurt shrugs. “Well, do you send him flowers every now and then? Or leave him little notes or messages to brighten up his day? Or take him out to dinner to his favorite restaurant? Or– oh, _oh_!” He gasps suddenly and clasps his hand together under his chin, eyes shining. “Oh, do you sing to him? You said you play the guitar, so you must give him private concerts all the time! Singing his favorite songs to him, pouring out your feelings in a beautiful ballad and–”

“No, look, I– We don’t need anything like that.” Blaine shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “Our relationship isn’t... He just knows, okay?” he finishes, frustrated.

“Well, have you ever even tried?” Kurt asks. “You’d be surprised how well it works.”

Blaine stops. “Have I ever even tried?” he repeats incredulously. He lets out a sudden laugh and can practically feel the way the bitter tone scratches against his throat, burning his mouth when it comes out. “I spent years trying, Kurt, and trust me, you do not want to find out how that turned out,” he spits out. “The only reason Nathan and I have made it even this far is because I stopped trying.”

He pushes himself up from the bench, suddenly feeling like he needs to move, like the open space of the park is suffocating him. He’s said too much, showed too much of his feelings – more than he has ever even showed to Tina or anyone else, and the admission has left him feeling sore and raw, as if everything is spilling out of him, every little thing he has taught himself to push away until it can’t touch him anymore.

“Blaine...” Kurt starts, and the sound of his voice – worried and sad and _pitying_ – is the last straw.

Blaine shakes his head, ignoring Kurt’s hand reaching out to him, and just starts walking, telling himself that the only reason he’s going so fast is because it’s downhill; not because all this talk about true love and happily ever after is reminding him of things he thought he was done with already.

“Blaine!” Kurt calls out again, and then there’s a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, stopping him right before he reaches the park’s path. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or imply anything,” Kurt says sincerely and steps into Blaine’s line of sight, regarding him with worried eyes. “Are you... Is everything alright? I upset you, didn’t I?” he asks, searching Blaine’s face again.

Blaine shakes his head, trying not to think about how easy and natural Kurt’s hand on his shoulder feels like. They’ve only known each other for less than a day, and Blaine has already revealed things to Kurt that even his long-time friends don’t know about, things he tries so very hard to ignore himself. There’s something about Kurt, something that makes Blaine feel like it would be alright, but he just... can’t.

His life has become a series of carefully constructed boundaries, decisions upon decisions and lessons learned. He can’t let go of himself, not like that.

“I should just head back home,” he deflects, still looking away. “It’s way past lunch time already, and I’m getting hungry.”

“Oh.” Kurt pulls his hand back. “I... I understand. I can find some other place to stay for tonight and–”

“No, _Kurt_ –” Blaine deflates, his shoulders dropping down. He runs his hand over his hair and sighs, finally looking at Kurt. “I’m not going to kick you out or anything. I said I would help you, and that offer still stands. I really don’t like the idea of you wandering around New York on your own until your dad figures out how to bring you back, so if...” He waits for a group of kids to run past them, their laughter and screams echoing in the air, and then continues, “If you want to, you can stay at my place for as long as you need. And I will do my best to help you, just like I promised.”

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, his hands doing that thing he seems to do whenever he’s nervous. “Because I don’t want to be a burden, and I feel like we’re constantly butting heads about something and I honestly don’t want to upset you–”

“You didn’t upset me,” Blaine promises. It’s not Kurt’s fault he has issues. “And you’re not being a burden. I want to help.”

Kurt’s mouth turns into a small, shy smile. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “And I know I did upset you, you don’t have to lie about that,” he adds, straightening his back. “So I’m sorry. You’ve been very kind to me, even if we have such different views of the world, and I would never want to take advantage of that. You’re the only friend I have in this place, and–” He trails off when he sees Blaine blink his eyes in surprise. “Oh. Sorry, I just assumed that–”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Blaine rushes to say, automatically reaching out towards Kurt. “I was just surprised since we haven’t known each other for that long. But yes, of course we’re friends. I don’t usually talk about my love life with complete strangers,” he tries to joke, even if it feels awkward.

Kurt’s lips twitch with a smile. “Right. As I was saying, you’re the only friend I have in this place, and I don’t... I mean I’d like to...” He frowns, obviously struggling with his words.

“Hey.” Blaine touches Kurt’s arm briefly. “You don’t have to do this alone. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Kurt lets out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “Right.” He grins at Blaine, genuine and bright, and Blaine can’t help but think that for a prince he’s surprisingly human. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Blaine smiles back at him, bumping their shoulders together. He feels better all of a sudden, more like he’s back in his own skin again, but he’s not going to linger on the hows and whys. “Now come on, you can’t be in New York and not try the bagels. Trust me, you’re going to love them.”

“Alright.” Kurt follows him, obviously noticing the way he changed the subject even if their conversation on true love wasn’t exactly finished yet, but he still doesn’t call him out on it. “I guess I should also get some different clothes?” he adds, pushing his cape from his shoulders with a disgusted expression. “This is my second day wearing the same outfit, and I feel like I’m not even myself anymore.”

Blaine looks at him over his shoulder with a smile, trying to ignore the way his chest feels tight with something he’s never felt before, something he can’t quite put his finger on. “Bagels and clothes it is then.”

 

\---

 

Bagels are a hit, like Blaine predicted. Kurt eats his own with a speed and grace that isn’t very prince-like at all, and then spends the next minutes staring at Blaine’s bagel longingly until Blaine gives up and buys him another one. Kurt eats the second one even more messily than the first one, if that’s somehow even possible, and Blaine can’t help but wonder what his etiquette training has been like.

If he has even had something like that. Maybe Kingleysia isn’t big on etiquette.

Even when they leave the coffee shop with their – in Kurt’s case second – bagels, people still stare at them, especially the little children. Adults mostly just take a glance of Kurt’s clothes, their eyes widening for a quick moment until they politely look away, obviously trying not to stare and be rude when they’ve probably seen even crazier outfits on the streets of this city. But the kids can’t take their eyes off Kurt. They point at him, pull at their parents’ sleeves to make them notice, some of them even stopping completely in their tracks when they see Kurt.

Kurt seems a bit bewildered at first, but eventually he starts smiling back at the children and giving them a small wave when their parents are not looking, the movement of his hand much more regal than his eating habits. The kids either blush and giggle and wave back, or go completely still with a stunned expression, as if they expected Kurt not to notice them and are now suddenly faced with the realization that an actual Disney prince just greeted them.

Blaine should take him to work with him someday, if Kurt’s here that long. He would be a huge hit with the little ones in his prince gear.

Once they’re done with the bagels Blaine takes Kurt to his favorite thrift shop, the one that often has high-quality clothes and other great finds for a ridiculously cheap price. It’s something Blaine found during his second year in the city, and he has been a regular ever since. Just the store’s bowtie selection alone is enough to make him come back again and again.

When they step in Kurt halts right in the doorway, staring at all the clothes with his eyes wide open, and Blaine can’t help but think that his expression looks a lot like the little kids’ faces when they saw him on the street.

“Oh my god,” Kurt breathes out. “You have so much more variety than we do in Kingleysia. I don’t even know what some of these clothes are called!”

Blaine laughs, nudging him forward so they’re not blocking the way. “Yeah, there are certainly no capes in here.”

“You have no idea how awful it is sometimes,” Kurt complains, running his fingers over the first rack of clothes in amazement. “I try to make some new and out-of-the-box clothes myself, but the general fashion in Kingleysia never seems to change that much, aside from different colors being popular during different times of the year or something like that.” His voice turn into a whine. “I know clothes are supposed to be practical, but why can’t they be nice to look at as well?”

“You make your own clothes?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs. “Some of them. Mostly it’s just doodles to fill my time.” He takes an orange shirt with a floral pattern on it from the rack, looking it up and down. “God, I can’t wait to incorporate some of these things into my style once I get back to Kingleysia,” he whispers in awe.

Blaine chuckles and takes the shirt away from him. “That’s a woman’s shirt.”

“You say that like it matters.” Kurt runs his fingers over the shirt’s fabric one last time and then moves on.

“Oh. True.” Blaine blinks, places the shirt back on the rack, and then follows him. “You don’t have to wait until you’re back in Kingleysia, though. We can find you something you can wear while you’re stuck here.”

Kurt gasps, his hand flying to his chest as he whirls around. “Oh my god, I had forgotten all about that! Blaine, I can’t believe you distracted me with bagels!” he admonishes, even going as far as slapping Blaine’s shoulder lightly.

Blaine grins. “You liked them, don’t even try to deny it.”

Kurt sniffs, turning his nose up, even though Blaine can still see the smile playing on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now shut up and show me where I can find pants that look like the ones you’re wearing right now.”

He even snaps his fingers, and Blaine snorts out a laugh. “For future reference, they’re called jeans.”

“Thank you,” Kurt replies and winks at him.

In the end, Kurt doesn’t get that many new clothes. It’s obvious he could happily buy everything inside the store, but he only chooses a few shirts, two light cardigans and two pairs of skinny jeans, naming them his new favorite articles of clothing. All the clothes he picks out are comfortable but have some sort of memorable detail that makes them stick out from everything else, and that alone convinces Blaine that Kurt really does have an eye for fashion. He makes a mental note to visit a few other stores closer to his apartment for other necessities Kurt might need, and pays their purchases at the register.

“I will pay you back for this, Blaine,” Kurt promises earnestly when they step out of the store. “Somehow.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaine brushes him off. “They didn’t cost that much, and it would be really rude to make you wear the same outfit for more than two days.”

Kurt shudders. “Even two days is pushing it.” He flicks his cape away from his shoulders again – he refused to wear any of his new clothes yet because apparently he has some sort of a routine he needs to stick to when it comes to getting new clothes – and almost absent-mindedly brushes his fingers over his brooch again. “But still,” he adds, “I will pay you back.”

“In Kingleysian gold?” Blaine jokes.

Kurt shrugs. “We’re not that big on gold, actually–”

“Blaine?”

Blaine halts in his steps at the sound of his name. When he turns around, he sees Tina standing a few feet from him and Kurt, her arm locked with Mike’s and her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Hey you two!” Blaine greets them with an overly bright smile and steps closer, Kurt following close behind, his eyes curious. Just seeing Tina makes Blaine remember that he promised to call her later after his non-existent date with Nathan, but he completely forgot about it when this whole deal with Kurt came up. “What are you two doing here?” he asks, hoping that Tina isn’t too angry with him.

“Just taking a walk and enjoying a rare day off,” Tina answers briskly. Her eyes flit to Kurt and then back to Blaine. “Who’s this?”

Blaine cringes mentally and can almost see Mike do the same. They both know very well how much Tina loves gossip, and her deliberately nonchalant tone of voice isn’t fooling anyone.

“This is Kurt,” he explains, nodding at Kurt who gives a small wave. “He’s a friend of mine who’s in town for a few days and is staying with me while he’s here.” It’s at least somewhat close to the truth, and hopefully Tina won’t see through it.

“Nice to meet you,” Kurt says politely.

“You too. I’m Mike,” Mike replies with a friendly smile of his own, “and this is Tina, my fiancée. We’re both friends of Blaine.”

Kurt’s eyes widen and he clasps his hands together. “Oh, fiancée! You’re getting married! That’s amazing, congratulations!” He gives a quick glance to Blaine, as if to say _look, here you have true love right in front of you and you still refuse to believe in it_ , but Blaine chooses to ignore him.

“Thank you.” Tina leans closer to Mike with a small, private smile, and Blaine also chooses to ignore the sudden and unexpected stab of jealousy in his chest. “I’m sorry, but are you coming from a costume party or something?” Tina asks suddenly, frowning at Kurt’s clothes in curiosity.

Oh shoot. “Oh, well, he’s–” Blaine starts, but Kurt interrupts him before he gets any further.

“I am, actually,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s nothing. “It was for my niece’s birthday, and the party was sort of one of the reasons I am staying here for a few days. Blaine here was just kind enough to come pick me up afterwards,” he adds, almost as if it was an afterthought.

Blaine stares at him, baffled, and realizes a moment too late that his staring probably doesn’t make Kurt’s lie sound any truer. When he finally looks away, he can see Mike raise his eyebrows at him in question, and he just flashes him a quick smile in answer.

“I didn’t mean to interrogate you or anything,” Tina is saying, still looking Kurt’s clothes up and down, but instead of curious she’s now looking approving. “It’s just that I’ve never seen a prince costume that was done this well before. The cape is just amazing, and that sword looks like it’s the real thing and– The whole costume fits you perfectly,” she breathes out. “No awkward wrinkles or anything.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kurt preens. “I made parts of it myself, actually.”

Tina’s eyes widen even more. “Really?” she gasps, and Blaine can see that she’s dying to ask more questions.

“Tina makes the costumes for a local theatre company,” he explains, leaning closer to Kurt. “She sort of has an obsession for well-made clothes.”

“You get to make clothes for a living?” Kurt looks just as amazed as Tina. “That sounds wonderful!”

Mike laughs. “Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Tina, honey, we were supposed to go grab something to eat and my hunger is killing me.” He pulls at her arm, starting to walk away. “It was nice meeting you, Kurt,” he adds.

“You too,” Kurt says, his smile much more genuine now than it was before.

“Wait, I still need to–” Tina forces Mike to a stop and turns to look at Blaine. “How does Nathan feel about Kurt staying at your place?” she asks, her eyes searching Blaine’s face.

Sometimes Blaine really dislikes her gossipy side, even if she is one of his best friends and he knows she would never spread things about him. She just wants to know everything herself, especially if it’s something that concerns her friends and their love life. Blaine knows it initially comes from a place of caring, but sometimes it’s just... too much.

“He doesn’t know about it. Not yet,” he adds quickly when Tina’s brows start to furrow. “Besides, it’s not like I need to know who he’s hanging out with every minute of every day either. We trust each other.”

“If you say so,” Tina says slowly, narrowing her eyes.

Mike rolls his eyes and mouths a quick apology to Blaine. “Anyway!” he says out loud, pulling at Tina’s arm again until she starts moving. “Talk to you later, Blaine? Have a nice day you two!”

“You too!” Blaine calls out, watching them until they disappear into the crowd, Tina already talking about something with an excited expression while Mike rolls his eyes at her.

Every now and then looking at his friends makes him feel like he could believe in true love again, if he gave himself the chance – but then he always purposefully knocks that feeling back down. He's learned his lesson already.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to lie,” he says to Kurt after a moment.

“I figured that since you had such a hard time believing me at first, telling anyone else that I’m from a place called Kingleysia and these kinds of clothes are actually what I normally wear everyday wouldn’t probably go too well.” Kurt flicks a strand of hair from his forehead. “Was it... It was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”

Blaine purses his lips. “Yeah. I don’t think telling everyone you’re a prince from Kingleysia would make your stay here any easier.”

“Especially since I have no idea how long I’m going to be here,” Kurt adds quietly.

“Right.” Blaine gets a firmer grip on the shopping bag he’s carrying. “Shall we head back to my place?”

Kurt gives a small smile. “Sure.”

A few minutes later Blaine’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out, distractedly glancing at it while still listening to Kurt’s story about Rachel who is apparently Kurt’s best friend and also Kingleysia’s new court magician, even if she’s still a little bit lost with her powers.

**From Tina:**  
_so am I being replaced? ;)_

“You can answer, I don’t mind,” Kurt points out when he notices Blaine frowning down at his phone.

Blaine flashes him a quick smile. “Thanks.”

**From Blaine:**  
_What?_

**From Tina:**  
_am I being replaced as your best friend?_

**From Blaine:**  
_I have no idea what you’re talking about._

**From Tina:**  
_Kurt, you idiot!_  
_I’ve never seen you look that comfortable around anyone_  
_I saw how you were smiling at him before you noticed us_

**From Blaine:**  
_He’s my friend? Of course I’d smile at him._

**From Tina:**  
_don’t be stupid_  
_I’m just happy to see you happy! :)_

Blaine has no idea how to answer that, so he just pockets his phone and turns back to Kurt. Kurt is looking around the street they’re walking on, paying attention to everything from the cars and buildings they pass to the scraps of paper on the sidewalk. He has a small smile on his face, barely noticeable, but at least he looks a lot more relaxed than he did this morning.

“You know,” he says suddenly, “Even if I’m still a little mad about it, I think Rachel could’ve been right. I think I could enjoy being here for an adventure.”

Blaine’s heart thumps against his chest. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers, nodding decisively. “I mean, isn’t that what adventures are supposed to be about? Stepping outside of your comfort zone?”

Blaine grins. He does feel happy, even if he can’t really even pinpoint why and doesn’t know what Tina exactly meant with her messages.

“I guess so,” he replies, and Kurt smiles back at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter chapter this time because I wanted post at least something this weekend.

They spend the rest of the weekend mostly at Blaine’s apartment, only stepping out to pick up some food or take a walk around the neighborhood so Kurt can get to know it. On the first night Kurt arranges his old and new clothes in a big box they found at the convenience store while Blaine opens up the sofa-bed, sheepishly admitting that he would’ve done it before but Kurt managed to fall asleep too quickly on his first night here. The couch was comfortable, but the bed is even more so, and Kurt can hardly believe that he’s sleeping on a bed that can be turned into a couch.

Why on earth do they not have these amazing things in Kingleysia?

Kurt starts asking Blaine questions the next day, about New York, about life in the city and everything else he should know. It’s fascinating – he’s so used to Kingleysia and its ways that it’s difficult to believe that a place that’s so different but still in some ways so similar can even exist. Apparently he’s quite good at asking difficult questions as well, since Blaine has to check some things on something he calls the Internet and that seems to hold the answer to every imaginable question.

Except even the Internet doesn’t recognize Kingleysia.

The amount of other information Kurt could find on it if he learned how to use it is overwhelming, though. Everything about this place is overwhelming. Even– even Blaine is overwhelming. He is so kind and patient, explaining everything to Kurt as well as he can and letting him stay at his apartment for as long as he wants, making him food and practically being his guide, asking nothing in return. And whenever Kurt understands something new about New York or remembers the name of something previously unfamiliar to him, Blaine’s whole face lights up with the brightest smile, his eyes going all squinty and his cheeks pink. It seems absurd that someone like Blaine, someone who obviously cares so much and wants to make people happy, doesn’t believe in true love.

Kurt can’t help but wonder about it. He finds himself sometimes staring at Blaine in consideration when Blaine is looking away, following the lines of his face to find some clue. He just doesn’t have the courage bring up the whole true love discussion again. He doesn’t want to upset Blaine. He has no idea what he said wrong in the park the first time, but he knows he doesn’t want to make Blaine look like that again – like he was going to crack open and fall apart right then and there and Kurt wouldn’t have any idea how to put him back together again.

Blaine is his only friend in this strange place. Blaine is quickly becoming his best friend, with the way he understands Kurt and lets him be open in ways he has never been able to be in Kingleysia. And Kurt doesn’t want to hurt someone like that, intentionally or unintentionally.

When Kurt wakes up on Monday morning from a hazy dream that involved a distorted version of Kingleysia he couldn’t recognize, Blaine is already awake and dressed although it’s still relatively early. He’s standing in front of the hall mirror, his back to Kurt, but Kurt can see from his reflection that he’s tying a bowtie – another new article of clothing Kurt has learned about – around his neck with deft fingers, brows furrowed in concentration. He looks nice in his checkered shirt and gray cardigan, hair gelled within an inch of its life, somehow looking even more put-together than he did during the weekend.

“Morning,” Kurt calls out, kicking off the covers and barely stifling a yawn. The sofa-bed is comfy and he could probably sleep for a few hours more, but he might as well get up when he’s already awake. He doesn’t particularly want to risk seeing the same dream again.

Blaine glances at him over his shoulder. “Morning!” he chirps with a smile and finishes up his tie. He strokes his hands over it one more time to make sure it’s done properly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm,” Kurt hums in affirmative, running a hand through his hair. Ugh, he needs to wash his hair in that magical shower once he’s awake enough. “You?”

“Alright,” Blaine replies with a shrug. “I was a bit anxious, so I slept kind of lightly, but at least I didn’t have any nightmares or anything.”

“Anxious?” Kurt pushes himself up on the bed and shivers when his bare feet hit the cold floor. Blaine wasn’t lying when he said it gets cold in the apartment during the night. “Why would you be anxious?” he asks curiously.

Blaine just turns around and looks at him, raising his eyebrows. He does look nice, so nice that Kurt feels something strange and warm at the pit of his stomach, almost as if Blaine’s–

“Oh, right!” Kurt exclaims when his mind makes the connection. “You’re going out to see your true love,” he finishes in sing-song, grinning at Blaine.

“Kurt–” Blaine starts, his eyebrows dropping down into a frown. His brows are shaped a bit funnily, now that Kurt’s paying attention to them. They’re almost triangle-like, especially when he’s smiling, and they're so expressive as well. If Kurt gets the chance to spend more time with Blaine, he could probably learn to distinguish his moods from his eyebrows and eyes alone.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kurt offers, waving his hand in the air. “I’m still half-asleep, so I’m not really responsible for what I’m saying.” He watches as Blaine straightens his shirt in nervousness. “But you should tell him that you love him. People deserve to know it,” he can’t help but add.

Blaine’s frown deepens, and Kurt can almost see the cracks forming, can see Blaine fighting against something unexplainable, so he drops the subject, standing up instead and padding towards the kitchen. Blaine gave him the permission to use whatever he finds in there, and though it still feels awkward to eat someone else’s food, in their kitchen at that – not that there even is room for a dining hall in Blaine’s apartment, and in a place this small there’s no need for servants – he is hungry and those bagels they bought yesterday were delicious.

“Will you be gone all day?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Oh.” Blaine startles from his thoughts, smoothing his shirt again. “No, probably just a few hours or so. Nathan has work today, and I should probably catch up on some stuff as well, so...” He follows Kurt into the kitchen. “Will you be alright on your own?”

Kurt pulls out the bagels and opens the door of the white cold cabinet – _fridge_ , that’s what Blaine called it when he explained the most common kitchen gadgets to him yesterday – to find some butter. Even the food looks somewhat different in here, but Kurt’s slowly getting the hang of it. He’s always been a fast learner, and seeing the connection between the magic he knows and the things Blaine calls technology does help as well.

“I’ll be fine,” he answers as he pushes the fridge door closed. “You gave me those papers about clothes–”

“Fashion magazines,” Blaine corrects.

“–so I’ll probably just spend some time looking at them,” Kurt finishes. “You do have some really extraordinary fashion in here.”

Blaine smiles. “Well, I’m just glad you’re finding something enjoyable in our world.”

Kurt grins back at him, and for a moment they just stare at each other, bagels and butter forgotten on the kitchen counter. The moment is broken by a sudden knock at the door, the sound echoing through the apartment and making them both startle.

Blaine gives a sheepish smile and then glances at his watch, squinting his eyes. “Huh, I wonder who it could be at this time of the morning...”

He turns around towards the front door, and Kurt follows him with his eyes, fiddling with the butter knife in his hands. Kurt’s never really felt like this with any of his other friends, not Rachel or Mercedes or Finn, even though he’s known them for years and considers them his closest friends. He’s only known Blaine for a few days, but somehow Blaine still makes him feel... different. As if he could just stare at Blaine for hours and never get tired of it.

It’s strange, and Kurt doesn’t really understand it.

Blaine pulls the door open, revealing a tall, dark-haired man who’s wearing a button-down and neatly pressed pants, his hair cropped short. He has a serious face, but his mouth twitches up in a small, almost nervous smile when he sees Blaine.

“Nathan!” Blaine exclaims in surprise. He leans closer to give a quick kiss on Nathan’s cheek, the movement looking somewhat awkward from where Kurt’s standing, but Nathan’s hand does brush over Blaine’s waist in a gentle gesture once they break apart. “What are you doing here?” Blaine is asking, urgently gesturing for Nathan to come in. “I thought we were meeting at the coffee shop.”

Nathan shrugs. “I was running a little early so I thought we could walk there together.” He glances around the apartment, obviously noticing the sofa-bed and then startling when he sees Kurt standing in the kitchen. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

“Nathan, this is my friend Kurt,” Blaine introduces them, placing his hand on Nathan’s arm. “He’s in New York for a few days and I said he could stay at my place,” he lies smoothly and then lowers his voice. “Is that alright? I mean, I was going to tell you earlier, but...”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Nathan asks genuinely, glancing at Blaine in curiosity. “Of course you should help out your friends.” He turns to look at Kurt, all politeness and perfect manners. It’s not difficult to see what he and Blaine have in common. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Kurt replies awkwardly.

There’s something between Blaine and Nathan, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He has seen his dad and Carole together, has seen Rachel with Finn and countless of other people with their true love, even saw the same glow in Tina and Mike the other day when he met them for the first time – but somehow the air between Blaine and Nathan is different. Cooler.

“Blaine has told me a lot about you,” he adds, just to have something to say.

Nathan’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “Oh, he has?” He looks at Blaine. “I didn’t know you talked about me to your friends that much.”

There’s no accusation in his voice, nothing to indicate that he’s upset. He only sounds curious and a little confused, as if he hasn’t considered their relationship something worth talking to your friends about, and Kurt frowns at the realization.

“Of course I have,” Blaine says. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Nathan’s mouth twitches, and he touches Blaine’s waist again. “Right. Of course. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just grab my things.” Blaine pulls on his coat and takes a step closer to the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he says to Kurt, “and then I can show you around the city for the rest of the day. Okay?”

Kurt waves him off, focusing his attention on the bagels again. “Take all the time you want. I’ll be fine.”

Blaine looks anxious for a moment, as if he’s worried about leaving Kurt alone in an apartment he’s not completely familiar with yet, in a city he doesn’t know. Eventually he flashes a nervous smile, though, and slowly follows Nathan to the door.

“Alright. If you’re sure,” he says, something hesitant in his voice. “I’ll see you later then?”

“It was nice meeting you,” Nathan calls over his shoulder, and Kurt barely has the chance to open his mouth to reply when the door already clicks closed behind them.

Kurt stares at the bagel in his hand. It’s quiet in the apartment all of a sudden, in a different way than it is during the night, and he suddenly realizes that he’s alone in this city for the first time since he met Blaine. It’s an odd feeling. He has never really minded being on his own – he liked playing by himself when he was little, and even when he got older he still sometimes craved his own space, just for him and no one else. His dad is used to finding him in one of the old towers of their castle at least once a week, just sitting there all by himself with a sketchpad or practicing his sword-fighting against invisible targets.

But it’s different being alone in a familiar place. Blaine’s apartment isn’t familiar to him, not in the same way as Kingleysia and the castle are, and as unfair as it seems, Kurt finds himself hoping Blaine really won’t take all the time he wants with Nathan.

Kurt shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts. He’s being stupid. Blaine is with his true love, and he has the right to spend as much time with him as he wants. Just because Kurt felt that there was something different between Blaine and Nathan doesn’t give him the right to judge their relationship. He can be by himself for a few hours or longer. Blaine deserves to be with his true love. Everyone does.

So Kurt eats breakfast by himself and clears the dishes away once he’s done. He sits on the fire escape in the crisp morning air for a long while, whistling and humming with the birds and laughing out loud when one of the birds wins their singing competition with an elaborate tune. The bird literally preens after its win, taking a few steps on the railing with its chest ridiculously puffed out, before giving Kurt a disdainful look and flying away.

Kurt takes a long shower, reading the labels on the bottles and jars Blaine keeps in his bathroom, and then cautiously tries some of them in his own hair. He walks around the apartment with his brooch in his hand, trying to find out if it will start humming or trembling at any spot, but the metal stays cold and still against his palm. He eats another bagel, manages to close the sofa-bed all by himself, and then settles down on the couch with the papers – _magazines_ – Blaine gave him, slowly flipping through them.

The sheer diversity of the clothes in the magazines is unbelievable, and before he’s even done with the first one he roots around the apartment until he finds an empty sheet of paper so he can jot down ideas and thoughts of all the clothes he likes.

He can’t believe he’s been wearing capes and tunics for as long as he can remember when there’s a whole universe of different articles of clothing just waiting to be worn.

Kurt has gone through about one third of the magazines, the paper already filled with notes – he really is taking his time with them – when he hears the sound of a key turning in the lock. He looks up just as the door opens and Blaine steps in, his movements slow. Blaine closes the door behind himself and then leans against it, staring at the floor but looking like he’s actually not seeing anything.

“Hey,” Kurt calls with a smile, pushing the magazine he was reading away. “How was breakfast with your true love?” he jokes.

Blaine stays still for a long moment, for so long that Kurt is starting to worry, but then he suddenly takes a shuddering breath, his whole body shaking with it. He lifts his hand to his hair, running it through the gel and thoroughly messing it up, and even from where he’s sitting Kurt can see that Blaine’s hand is trembling.

“Blaine?” he asks, straightening his back in alarm.

“I–” Blaine starts. He takes another breath, lowers his hand and finally lifts his head, slowly and cautiously. His eyes are red-rimmed, and it’s not just his hand that’s shaking – his whole body, his whole face is shuddering, shoulders shivering, his eyes blinking rapidly and his mouth trembling like he doesn’t know whether or not he wants to speak. It’s not like at the park, it’s not Blaine suddenly exploding and yelling at Kurt; it’s Blaine actually falling apart, piece by piece, and Kurt has no idea what to do.

“Blaine? What’s going on?” he asks worriedly, pushing himself up from the couch and quickly moving closer.

Blaine shakes his head, and then his face just– crumples. Before Kurt gets the chance to react Blaine has pushed himself off the door and disappeared into his bedroom, forgetting to close the door behind himself in his rush.

Kurt follows him, even though he doesn’t know if he should. When he steps into the room Blaine is pulling off his coat and cardigan in quick, angry movements and throwing them on his bed, apparently not caring that his lovely cardigan gets wrinkled in the process.

“We– we broke up,” Blaine spits out all of a sudden, his voice breaking on the second word. “So that’s it for true love and all that other crap.”

Kurt stops in the doorway, blinking. “I... I don’t know what ‘breaking up’ means,” he admits quietly.

“It means that Nathan and I are no longer together.” Blaine turns to look at Kurt. His eyes are shining with unshed tears, the wetness sticking to his eyelashes. “It means that we went to the coffee shop, we sat down, and then Nathan told me very kindly that this isn’t working and he wants to break up.”

Kurt stumbles back as if he’s been hit. Not together? That’s... It can’t be. People just don’t stop being together like that. That would be awful, and heartbreaking. Devastating. He can’t even imagine something like that, something where people would be pulled apart because they chose so, not because something stronger than them, something like death, came between them.

“B-but... You can’t not be together,” he tries weakly, following Blaine with his eyes as he starts to pace the room, staring at the ceiling as if he’s trying his hardest not to let the tears fall. “He’s your true love. There must be some kind of a mistake. Blaine, there must be–”

“There is no mistake!” Blaine exclaims suddenly, throwing his hands up in the air and making Kurt startle back again. “There isn’t, Kurt, there’s just me, with my– my messed up love life and all my failures. Okay?” His voice has turned bitter, and the tears in his eyes are so close to spilling over that it looks like one more word could shatter him for good.

“Blaine...” Kurt starts, taking a step closer.

Blaine shakes his head, stepping away and blinking his eyes even more quickly. “See? This is exactly what I meant,” he says in a low voice, the sound an odd contradiction to his previous shouting. His voice keeps breaking, though, like it has to go through something rough before getting out of his mouth. “There is no such thing as true love,” Blaine goes on, pointing at Kurt. “Not in this place, and definitely not... D-definitely not for me.”

His breath hitches, shoulders starting to shake again, and before Kurt realizes what he’s doing he’s moving closer and pulling Blaine into his arms. Blaine resists at first, shifts away and keeps shaking his head, but Kurt holds him more tightly, tucking his own chin over Blaine’s shoulder and splaying his hands against Blaine’s back.

He’s never really held anyone like this – he has hugged his dad and his friends, but this is different, more desperate and protective, like he’s hoping to keep Blaine together if he just holds him tightly enough. He has no idea what to say, still too confused by the whole concept of breaking up and too scared of saying the wrong thing, but he can do this. He can hold Blaine together physically.

Blaine starts crying in earnest after a while, his whole body trembling with it. He stops fighting against Kurt’s embrace almost at the same moment and just fists his hands in Kurt’s shirt, the tears soaking into its fabric.

“H-he said he’s never really loved me,” he gasps out through his sobs, “that he’s just liked me and last week he realized that it’s– it’s not enough, that there needs to be something more.” He buries his face deeper into Kurt’s chest. “Y-you know what the funny thing is? I don’t think I ever really loved him either,” he confesses brokenly.

“Blaine,” Kurt whispers urgently, pulling him closer. There are tears in his own eyes as well because he just doesn’t understand this, he doesn’t understand how two people can be together and not be in love, how they can break up like this and leave each other hurting, and he doesn’t understand why holding Blaine like this and doing his best to shield him from harm can feel so... right.

“I didn’t,” Blaine argues weakly, sniffling. “I just desperately tried to love him, because I thought that... I thought that if I did it differently this time, it might actually work. I thought that if I just pretended hard enough and wouldn’t be so– so intense, it would finally work out.” He shakes his head against Kurt’s chest. “God, how stupid am I?”

“You’re not stupid,” Kurt interrupts fiercely. “That’s not stupid. Trying to find love and find the right person for you is never stupid. Maybe...” He hesitates, breathing in the scent of Blaine’s hair gel – raspberries – and then continuing, “Maybe Nathan wasn’t the right person for you, maybe you two weren’t meant to be, but... I may not understand how love works in this world, not yet, but I know it’s never stupid to hope for the best and try your best. Never.”

Blaine sniffs, and Kurt feels his body shiver again. “Y-you know, I should’ve known that something was off the moment he saw you in my kitchen,” he says quietly. It sounds like he’s too far gone already, like Kurt’s words don’t even register anymore. “He was so nice about it, even though I had never mentioned you before and he knows about all of my other friends. He was so calm and I– I thought that wow, I have such a mature boyfriend who doesn’t mind me having strange men in my apartment, he must trust me so much.” Blaine’s voice takes on a mocking tone. “But it wasn’t because he trusts me. It was because he just... didn’t care enough.”

Blaine starts shaking again, his grip on Kurt’s shirt tightening. Blaine is practically clinging to him, holding on to him like he’s the only thing keeping him standing right now, the tears coming steadily. Kurt hesitates for a moment and then shuffles them a few steps to the side until he can sit down on Blaine’s bed and pull Blaine down with him, never letting go of him.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” he hushes, awkwardly stroking his hand down Blaine’s shivering back when Blaine’s breathing hitches, the sound echoing in Kurt’s ears. “It’s going to be alright,” he promises, even though he can’t know that, even though he’s completely in over his head in this situation.

“I just thought that maybe I could make it work this time,” Blaine says miserably, curling up against Kurt. “I wanted to make it work, you know. I w-wanted– I wanted to find my true love.”

Kurt freezes, his hand halting in mid-movement.

“I guess I should just stop trying,” Blaine whispers, sniffling against Kurt’s chest.

Kurt opens his mouth to protest, to say that Blaine should never stop trying – but something stops him. Blaine is hurt, so incredibly hurt, and whatever Kurt says right now won’t probably help him at all. Besides, Blaine is obviously saying some things he didn’t mean to say, and Kurt has no idea how to react to them.

He had a certain image of Blaine in his mind, and now with just a few sentences that image has been shaken and rearranged, thrown out and replaced by something even more complicated. Kurt doesn’t know enough about love in this world to help Blaine. He didn’t even know people could break up, just like that, but the proof of that is currently clinging to him and looking so broken that Kurt would do anything to make him feel better again.

But he doesn’t know what he can do or say. So he just holds Blaine, keeps him still and lets him cry until he slowly quiets down, until his grip on Kurt’s shirt loosens and his breathing evens out. It takes a long while, but eventually Blaine calms down, and when Kurt carefully leans back and looks at Blaine’s face he sees that he has fallen asleep, hands still curled into fists on Kurt’s chest and tear tracks blotting his cheeks.

After a moment Kurt gently disentangles himself from Blaine and lays him down on the bed. Blaine doesn’t wake up; he only lets out a small questioning sound, brows furrowing in confusion until Kurt shushes him and strokes his hand down Blaine’s arm. Blaine relaxes again, melting against the mattress, and Kurt slowly pulls the covers over him before creeping out of the room as quietly as he can.

He closes the bedroom door behind himself and then leans against it, blinking his eyes in the apartment’s brightness. The magazines he was reading are still spread out on the couch, his brooch resting on the table next to his notes. Blaine’s messenger bag is lying on the floor where he dropped it when he came in. It’s quiet again, only the building humming around him, but if Kurt strains his ears he can almost hear Blaine snuffling on the other side of the door.

Kurt slides down until he can sit on the floor, bumping the back of his head against the door. Images flash through his mind – Blaine telling him he doesn’t believe in true love, Blaine leaning in to kiss Nathan’s cheek, Blaine looking at Kurt with a small smile, Blaine crying and shaking and breaking, and how it was like an instinct for Kurt to move closer and hold him, even though he’s never really been that physical with anyone before.

Kurt covers his eyes with his hands and takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head. He thought New York and this world in general would be the biggest mystery he would have to solve during his time in here. But now... Now, in some strange way, it's starting to feel like Blaine and the way Blaine makes him feel will turn out to be an even bigger mystery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'm so sorry about the wait; I have the whole story planned, but I just don't have enough time to write. Hopefully that will change during the Christmas holidays. :)
> 
> Also, I'm not a music therapist myself and have never been to music therapy, so if something is inaccurate, I apologize.

Blaine’s head feels too crowded and aching, skin stretched too tightly over muscle and bones. He blinks his eyes open, and the familiar ceiling of his bedroom greets him, shadows dimming the room around him. He’s wearing almost all of his clothes and there’s a blanket over him as well, the heat practically stifling him, and when he groggily lifts his head to look around the room, he can feel the beginning of a headache behind his eyes.

Crying has always made his head hurt.

Blaine pushes the covers away, the cool air hitting his skin. His hand meets his cardigan, rumpled on the bed, and it’s only then that he remembers why he woke up. He could hear the insistent buzzing of his phone even through his blessedly blank dreams, and he pulls the device from his pocket, squinting his eyes against the screen’s harsh light. He has three missed calls, all from Nathan, and one new text message, that one from Nathan as well.

**Nathan:**   
_I just wanted to make sure you got home alright._

Blaine throws his phone away and rubs his hands tiredly over his face. Nathan cares more about his well-being now that they’re broken up than he ever did when they were still together. He’s not being fair, he knows he’s not –- Nathan was very patient and kind during their conversation this morning, and Blaine knows logically that neither one of them was actually very happy in their relationship -– but he was just dumped by his boyfriend. He has earned the right to be unfair for a day or two.

A moment later he sighs, picks up his phone again and texts Nathan back, letting him know that he’s fine. Sometimes he really hates that his parents raised him to be so polite and considerate.

Eventually he gets up, slowly changes into more comfortable clothes and makes his bed, placing everything in its place. His phone buzzes again -– another text from Nathan, just the word ‘ _okay_ ’ and nothing more -– and Blaine leaves it on his nightstand when he leaves the room.

The magazines he gave to Kurt are still on the couch. There’s a sheet of paper on the sofa table, full of notes and small sketches, and Blaine glances at it when he walks past. The handwriting is neat and tiny, the letters written with curves and swirls the American school system doesn’t teach; but it’s the sketches that catch Blaine’s attention. Detailed and intricate drawings of different outfits are criss-crossed between and around the words, the shadowing and measurements in them looking incredibly accurate, even though Blaine can tell that they’re meant to be just rough ideas, sketched as quickly as possible.

He’s not an expert on fashion, but he knows enough to notice talent when he sees it.

Kurt is sitting on the fire escape again, looking at the city around him with his forehead creased, the wind ruffling his perfect hair. He startles from his thoughts when Blaine sits down on the window ledge.

“Hi,” Blaine says, giving him a small smile.

“Hi,” Kurt replies. He searches Blaine’s face for a moment, eyebrows lowering into a concerned line. “How are you feeling?”

Blaine shrugs. “Not as likely to break down in tears as I was earlier.” He crosses his arms over his stomach, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Kurt immediately shakes his head. “No, it’s–-” He reaches out his hand and touches Blaine’s arm, a brief warm contact that somehow still makes Blaine shiver. “It’s alright. I’m sorry you had to go through something like that.”

Blaine shrugs again and scratches his arm under the sleeve. “I guess break-ups aren’t something that happen in Kingleysia?” he ventures, looking away. It’s late afternoon by now, the sun low in the sky, and judging by the loud rumble of the cars below most people are probably on their way home from work. He should check a few things for work as well –- he has several sessions tomorrow and still needs to do some planning for them –- but right now he just wants to sit here, on this chilly fire escape with Kurt.

Somehow Kurt makes him feel steadier.

“No, we don’t–- We don’t break up,” Kurt is saying, his voice careful. “We find our true love and then we stay together, unless something...” He swallows, obviously not comfortable saying the words out loud. Blaine doesn’t blame him, not when Kurt told him earlier that his father lost his true love while Kurt himself lost his mother. “True love is for life. That’s what we believe in,” he goes on after a moment. “We don’t even court other people, or at least it’s not that common. We just wait for our true love.”

Blaine hums in understanding, picking at some lint on his shirt. “Well, as you can probably tell, it doesn’t work the same way in here.” He looks at the sky and frowns. “Right now I’m not even sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Was he mean to you?” Kurt asks suddenly, searching Blaine’s face again. “When he... broke up with you.”

“Who, Nathan?” After Kurt nods, Blaine straightens his back and shrugs again. He can’t seem to do anything but shrug his shoulders today. “No, not at all. He was actually really nice about it; explained everything from his point of view and wanted to make sure I would be alright and that there were no hard feelings.” Blaine snorts and shakes his head, pushing his hand in his hair. “He was a lot nicer than some other people have been in similar situations, to be honest. He even apologized for not doing it earlier.”

He pauses, listening to the hum of the city around him for a moment. He wonders what Kurt sees when he looks at New York –- does he see beauty or chaos, familiarity or endless strangeness. Connections or loneliness.

“I guess I should’ve seen it coming when we started spending more time apart than together and not really talking at all,” Blaine adds after a moment, “but I just...”

“You just wanted to stay hopeful?” Kurt offers. He’s listening to everything Blaine says carefully, expression blank but attentive, and it’s... comforting. Blaine is more used to talking about his issues and troubles with his other friends who can all offer a bit too much commentary, which isn’t exactly something he wants to hear right now.

“Maybe,” Blaine answers. “Or maybe I just desperately tried to pretend that it was working, that Nathan and I could last. He’s a nice guy and we had some things in common, so I thought I could make it work.”

“But he didn’t love you,” Kurt says when Blaine doesn’t continue. “And you said you didn’t love him either, not really. I’m–- I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I just don’t understand why you were even together in the first place if you didn’t love each other?”

He stares at Blaine with his eyes wide open and confused, and Blaine suddenly wishes he could have the same faith in love as Kurt does. Could trust that all those things people say in their wedding vows or when they’re wrapped around each other in the small hours of the morning are true.

He looks away, feeling his heart clench in his chest. “It’s complicated.”

“But how–-”

Blaine shakes his head abruptly, turning back to look at Kurt and running his hand through his hair. “No, that’s not–- to be honest, it’s not that complicated at all. It’s just something that happens sometimes. I don’t have the same security you obviously have with true love, so I just... I have to try.” He wraps his arms more tightly around his stomach. “Even with people I don’t necessarily love.”

Kurt bites his lip, and then he reaches out again, his hand hovering near Blaine’s knee for a moment, nervous and unsure, until he slowly pulls his hand back, as if he decides that this is not the right moment to touch Blaine. Blaine can feel the loss of Kurt’s touch like a sudden twinge in his heart, like the air is suddenly colder around them, even though it makes no sense.

“That sounds lonely,” Kurt points out after a moment. His voice is quiet and sad, and Blaine can’t meet his eyes.

If someone asked Blaine if he was lonely, he would smile and shake his head, deny everything with amused words and carefree gestures. He has his parents, present and caring after years of miscommunication; he has Cooper, the brother who calls him twice a month and tries to persuade him to be an extra in his newest movie; he has Tina and Mike and Sam and other friends, people he could call in the middle of the night if needed to, confidants he would never take for granted; he has the people at his work, the baristas at his regular coffee shop, the neighbors he sometimes sees in the hallway or in the elevator when he’s leaving for work.

He has people in his life, both close friends and distant acquaintances. He’s not lonely.

But there’s still that ache in his heart whenever he sees Tina and Mike together, or whenever he watches his parents moving around each other with the ease brought about by decades of marriage. It’s still there, pushing and pulling at his heart, forcing him to make stupid decisions and to hide his true emotions. He hopes for it so desperately, but has been disappointed too many times to voice that hope out loud.

“It’s life,” he replies eventually, shrugging his shoulders. _It’s my life_ goes unsaid.

Kurt frowns, wringing his hands. Blaine only now notices that he’s holding his brooch in his other hand, fingers clasped tightly around the small golden bird.

“Still no connection?” he asks carefully.

Kurt opens his hand and looks down at the brooch. “It’s been cold ever since I talked to my dad.” He strokes his thumb over the brooch, as if he’s smoothing down the bird’s metallic feathers. “This place is fascinating and I like being here, don’t get me wrong, but some things in here are just so confusing that I wish I could...” He sighs in frustration, blinking his eyes as if he’s trying not to cry. “I wish I could talk to Rachel and she would explain everything to me. Or that my dad was here and he would help me make sense of my-–” He hesitates and then pushes on. “Of my emotions.”

On an impulse Blaine leans closer and slowly places his hand over Kurt’s, the cold brooch left between their hands. Kurt startles and looks up, meeting Blaine’s eyes.

“I know things must be really confusing to you,” Blaine starts softy, “especially things that are about love and relationships and things like that, because obviously those things are, or at least they can be,” he acquiesces, “completely different from what you’re used to.” He squeezes Kurt’s hand. “And I know you must miss your dad and everyone else, but... We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Kurt nods, still staring into Blaine’s eyes.

“So if you ever need to talk or are confused about something,” Blaine goes on, “you can talk to me. I’m sorry if I’m a bit distant or careless with my words sometimes, but I want you to remember that you can talk to me. About anything you want. Okay?”

Kurt swallows roughly. “Okay,” he whispers.

Blaine gives him a small smile, squeezing his hand one more time before letting go. Kurt averts his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and for a quick, fleeting moment Blaine wonders what it would be like to keep holding on to Kurt’s hand, to fit their hands together and not let go. But the thought comes and goes -– he just broke up with his boyfriend, so it’s understandable that his brain works in mysterious ways.

Kurt lets out a sudden bark of laugh and shakes his head. “I think I was supposed to be making _you_ feel better after your break-up, not the other way around,” he points out, arching his eyebrows at Blaine.

Blaine grins, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I actually do feel better already?” When Kurt looks at him in confusion, Blaine just shrugs, again. “I mean, it still hurts, obviously; breaking up is never fun –- but I... I feel kind of okay. For now, at least. I think.”

Kurt’s mouth spreads slowly into a wide smile. “I’m glad.”

Blaine smiles back at him, and there it is again, this quiet moment between them, just like in the kitchen this morning before Nathan knocked on his door. It’s... comfortable. Natural. As if there’s a silent understanding between them, despite all the differences.

Blaine huffs out a laugh and pushes himself up from the window ledge, Kurt’s eyes following him. “Well, I think you said something about being here for an adventure, right?” he says abruptly, dusting off his jeans.

“Yes?” Kurt replies slowly.

“Then I’m going to give you an adventure,” Blaine promises and extends his hand to Kurt. “I have work tomorrow, and I was thinking that you could come with me? If you’d like to, I mean.”

Kurt pushes his brooch in his pocket and takes Blaine’s hand with a shy smile. “I’d love to.”

 

\---

 

“I spend so much time complaining to you about my cape and tunic, and now you’re making me wear them _again_? Were you even listening to me?”

Blaine looks over as Kurt shrugs the coat he’s wearing over his clothes more tightly around his shoulders. The coat covers his tunic and most of his cape, but his thick boots are still visible and the end of his cape keeps flapping in the wind beneath the coat’s hem. He honestly looks like someone coming home from a Halloween party. They had to leave Kurt’s sword at Blaine’s apartment because Blaine didn’t think his boss and co-workers would appreciate someone bringing an actual weapon to the community center, but Kurt insisted on wearing his brooch, still pressing his hand over it every now and then, as if to feel its temperature.

Blaine has never actually seen him without it, now that he thinks of it.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “If you feel too uncomfortable you don’t have to come with me, or I can just–-”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts him firmly and rolls his eyes, “I’m just teasing you. Now, can you tell me what I’m supposed to do at your work? And what you’re going to do?”

Blaine adjusts his guitar case in his hand. He’s a bit nervous about today, even if his bosses had said it was okay for him to bring a friend to help him with his sessions. He knows that Kurt will be just fine -– he has already adapted miraculously quickly to other new situations, so a few music therapy sessions with small kids shouldn’t be anything too difficult.

But Blaine can never know exactly how a session will go beforehand, or in what mood his clients will be, and he just... He wants today to go well. He wants to give Kurt an adventure of sorts, to show him something he probably hasn’t seen before. A music therapy session probably wouldn’t be considered an adventure by most people, but he remembers what Kurt told him about his dad’s adventure, about building houses and fixing broken wagons, and it does come close to that. Blaine has planned his whole sessions around Kurt’s presence, making the songs about princes and adventures and fairytale lands, and he wants it to be... magical. For everyone involved.

“Well, like I said earlier,” he starts, “I’m a music therapist. So I help people with music,” he adds, choosing to use the most basic explanation in case Kingleysia doesn’t have therapists or therapy.

“Heal their illnesses with the power of song?” Kurt jokes and nudges Blaine’s shoulder.

Blaine ducks his head and laughs. “Something like that. Except it’s more like I help them deal with their problems or issues with music. Like, for example, the first session I have today is a group session with small kids who all have some sort of a learning disability -– they have problems reading or writing or focusing in school or anything like that -– and making music together really helps them to open up or feel better.” He can feel his own smile turning fond. “It’s amazing, how even playing or singing a simple song can help them so much.”

Kurt slows his steps, staring at Blaine with a small smile of his own, his eyes soft. “You really like your job, don’t you?”

“I do,” Blaine replies, nodding. It’s the one thing in his life he has always been sure of. “I like music, and I like helping people. It fits me, I think.”

“It sure sounds like it.” Kurt blinks his eyes, as if he’s suddenly realizing something. “Hold on. You said kids.” He stops completely, staring at Blaine in horror. “Blaine, I don’t even know if I’m good with kids,” he says, his voice raising higher and his words coming faster. “I’m the youngest in my family and I’ve never really been around children, not at all actually, and I have no idea what to do or how to be with them. What if I’m not a kid person at all?”

Blaine huffs out a small laugh. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. They’re not going to bite.”

“This is not funny!” Kurt whines, his hands starting to move restlessly. “Why do you even want me to come with you?”

“Because they’re kids, Kurt,” Blaine explains. “They love fairytales and princes and princesses, and, to be honest, to anyone in this world you look like you came straight from a fairytale.” He pauses, searching Kurt’s face. “Or... Is that the problem? Do you feel like I’m making you be something you’re not?”

“No, that’s fine!” Kurt waves his hand in the air and straightens his back for a moment. “I _am_ a prince, and after going through your bookshelf during the weekend, I can definitely see how they might think I’m from a fairytale. It’s just...”

He hesitates, biting his lip. Blaine is suddenly struck with how adorable Kurt looks, how adorable he is in general with his attention to details and his drive to do anything he can to learn new things. He remembers seeing Kurt reading those old books from Blaine’s shelves while Blaine himself was planning his sessions or making dinner for them during the last few days, and back then he couldn’t help but wonder what Kurt thought about the children’s books Blaine has kept from his childhood.

If they made him feel like home, or even more like a stranger.

“I just don’t know how to act around kids,” Kurt finishes miserably, keeping his voice down low as a few passers-by walk past them on the street.

“Just be yourself,” Blaine suggests, taking Kurt’s hand and pulling him along with a reassuring smile. They’ll be late if they stand here any longer. “Talk to them about Kingleysia, tell them all the things you’ve told me. Trust me, they’ll adore you. You’re much better than any fairytale they’ve ever encountered before.” He pauses, a sudden bashful feeling heating the back of his neck. “Because you’re real.”

Kurt looks down, his cheeks tinged pink and a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. If you say so.”

Blaine can feel the heat move from his neck to his own cheeks, but he keeps walking, Kurt following him with a sudden spring in his step.

Once they reach the community center Kurt seems to forget his nerves for a while as he looks around, taking in all the different rooms they pass by and the people milling about, from gray-haired old people to toddlers and babies and everything in between. They walk past a wall that’s covered in drawings and paintings, bright and bold colors exploding from the white wall, and Blaine can see Kurt’s mouth turn into an excited smile.

Blaine greets a few of his co-workers and then leads them into a large room that already has cushions placed in a circle on the floor and different small musical instruments in baskets next to the far wall. He points out the coat rack for Kurt and quickly makes sure everything is in order after the previous session.

“Alright,” Blaine says as he places his guitar case on the floor next to the bigger cushion he usually sits on. “We still have a few minutes before the session starts and the first kids start coming in. Do you have any questions?”

Kurt walks around the room, smiling at the posters on the walls and running his fingers over the instruments. He stops in front of the window, peering out of it into the bright sunlight. “Not that I can think of.” He turns to look at Blaine and gestures at the room. “This is a lovely room. Very calm and relaxing.”

Blaine smiles. “That’s the point.” He crouches down and opens his guitar case. “The kids can be a bit shy at first since they’ve never met you before, but they should warm up eventually. I’ve worked with them for a long time, and they’re all great kids.”

There’s a quick knock on the door, and Blaine looks up. Susan, his boss, peeks her head into the room.

“Hey there,” she greets with a smile and a wave. “I just wanted to meet this friend of yours before you start.”

“Of course.” Blaine stands back up, dusting off his pants, and nods at Kurt. “Susan, this is Kurt, the friend I told you about.” He notices that the word ‘friend’ is starting to roll much more easily and naturally from his mouth by now. “Kurt, this is my boss, Susan.”

Susan looks Kurt up and down and gives a low, appreciative whistle. “Wow, those clothes are amazing. The kids are gonna love you.”

Kurt straightens his back again, adjusting his sleeves. “Oh, thank you!” He gives a quick smile. “I hope it’s okay that I’m coming to Blaine’s work like this...?”

“Sure, sure!” Susan brushes his words away with her hand, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms over her chest. “I trust Anderson here, so if he says you’re good, you’re good.”

Blaine ducks his head. “You give me way too much credit, Susan.”

Susan shrugs. “Nah, just enough.” She pushes herself away from the door frame and glances towards the corridor outside the door. “I think the first kids are here already, so have a good session, boys. It was nice to meet you, Kurt,” she adds with a wink and then backs away from the doorway.

“You too!” Kurt shouts after her before turning to look at Blaine. “She seems nice,” he adds. “You have a lot of nice people in your life.”

Blaine gives a lopsided shrug as he bends down to pull his guitar out. “I guess they balance it all out, then,” he says absent-mindedly, without giving the sentence a second thought.

He can almost feel Kurt’s frown although he doesn’t see it, his back turned to Kurt and his shoulders freezing once he realizes what he was referring to.

“What do you mean?” Kurt asks.

“Nothing,” Blaine replies quickly, standing up again. “Just... Not all the people in my life have been nice. That’s all.”

“Mr. Blaine, can we come in already?”

The small voice interrupts their conversation, and Blaine turns away from Kurt’s worried frown, smiling at the two small boys standing in the doorway. “Yeah, of course, come on in! We have a special guest today, so you can come meet him already.”

Just like Blaine predicted, the kids are shy at first, carefully sitting down on their usual cushions and glancing at Kurt when they think he’s not looking. They’re obviously curious, some of them even openly staring at Kurt’s clothes and a few of the older girls whispering together in excitement. Eventually, as Blaine introduces Kurt to them all and then encourages Kurt to tell them about Kingleysia, the kids start to open up. They ask all sorts of questions from Kurt and tell him excitedly about the things they usually do during their sessions, demanding that they sing this song or that to “Mr. Kurt”.

Blaine tries to tie the songs and exercises he had planned for today to princes and magic and to everything Kurt has told him about Kingleysia, encourages the kids to open up about their problems and experiences with the help of some familiar fairytales. It seems to be working, and Blaine even has to calm down the more excited kids once they get the hang of today’s theme. The longer the session goes on, the more comfortable everyone seems, and near the end of the session the kids are listening to one of Kurt’s stories with rapt attention, most of them leaning forward and staring at Kurt with their eyes wide open.

Kurt himself is clearly enjoying the attention and the reactions, his smile wide and genuine. Blaine can’t help but think that he looks absolutely beautiful when he’s this excited; his eyes are almost sparkling, as if the galaxies Blaine saw on that first rainy night are expanding right before his own eyes.

Soon, too soon, it’s time for them to sing the traditional closing song, but to the kids’ joy Blaine has changed the lyrics to something more appropriate to the day’s theme. Kurt nods his head and claps his hands along at first, but then he seems to memorize the song, both its melody and its lyrics, and during the chorus when Blaine least expects it, he starts to sing as well, his voice unmistakable through the children’s choir.

And Blaine... stops.

He fumbles with his guitar, playing a few chords a bit wrong as he turns to look at Kurt in amazement. Kurt’s voice is clear and high, breaking through the kids’ voices but not overpowering them. He doesn’t sound like anyone Blaine has ever heard before. They had a countertenor in his a cappella group in college, but that guy’s voice doesn’t come even close to Kurt’s. Kurt’s voice is beautiful and alluring, like a magical merman enchanting a seaman, except there’s no threat of danger or deceit –- he’s honest, smiling and singing genuinely from his heart, even though the song is just a silly children’s song.

Blaine finishes the song on autopilot, staring at Kurt instead of the kids around them, and he only snaps out of his daze when he hears the last note fading out and one of the kids clears their throat.

Right. He’s at work, and he needs to tie up this session, needs to say some final words to the kids. Needs to tell them that sure, of course Mr. Kurt can come back again if he has the time, and yes, Ophelia, they can continue with the princes and princesses next week. There are parents waiting outside the door, wanting to exchange a few words with Blaine and ask him if it’s okay that their daughter or son misses one session in a few weeks because of a family thing, and one of the shyer kids is pulling at his sleeve, whispering how she would like Mr. Blaine to tell Mr. Kurt that his brooch with the pretty golden bird is really pretty -– and all the while _Kurt_ is standing there, strong and safe at the back of the room, with his breath-taking voice and small smile.

The room empties out eventually, the last kids waving goodbye to them enthusiastically. Blaine slumps against the wall with a breathless laugh once they’re alone. It was a really good session; better than he even dared to hope for. He still has a few other sessions left later today, some of them not exactly something he could bring Kurt into, but after this one he’s pretty sure that it’ll be okay to leave Kurt in the crafts room for a while and let him cheer up the kids in there.

Because this was amazing. Kurt was amazing.

Kurt takes a few slow steps towards him and spreads his arms. “Well...? How did I do?”

Blaine lets out another overwhelmed laugh. “You were incredible! The kids clearly adored you.” He starts collecting the instruments from the floor and putting them back in their baskets, Kurt quickly following his example. Blaine feels like he can’t stop smiling, like he could take a few dance steps around the room and just float away. “And that story about the first time Rachel used her magic?” he adds. “That was so inspiring. I could see that it really made the kids think.”

Kurt bites his lip with a bashful smile as he drops the last maracas in a basket. “Well, you said that they all have problems with learning. I thought a story like that could be fitting.” He looks at Blaine, his smile turning soft. “And you were amazing as well. The way you talked to those kids, got them to open up and treated them with respect... You’re really good at your job, Blaine.”

Blaine picks up his guitar and puts it back in its case. “Well, this was a really good session. They don’t always go that smoothly.”

Kurt stops him with a hand on his arm, bending down so he can meet Blaine’s eyes. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short, Blaine Anderson. Those kids clearly adored you as well.” He squeezes Blaine’s arm, playfully scrunching up his nose. “And you don’t even have the added bonus of being dressed up like a fairytale prince.”

Blaine laughs and stands up, and before he has a chance to question it he leans closer and wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders. “Thank you.” He closes his eyes for a moment and leans against Kurt’s steady body, letting out a slow breath. “I mean it. After everything that happened with Nathan, I–- I don’t know how this session would’ve gone without you here.”

It’s true; he is good at keeping his personal life separate from his work, playing the part and not letting anything show, but the kids can be awfully perceptive sometimes. And he would hate it if he accidentally made them feel uncomfortable because he himself isn’t at his best.

Kurt hugs him back, stroking his hand down Blaine’s back. “I should be thanking you,” he counters. “This was definitely an adventure.” He leans back and looks into Blaine’s eyes. “Except now I’m really confused why you don’t sing more often. You have a wonderful voice.”

Blaine steps back from the touch and bends down to close his guitar case. He can feel his lips automatically twitching with a small false smile. “It’s a long story,” he replies awkwardly, the previous bubbling happiness inside of him already replaced by a cold, painful twinge he’s too familiar with. “I used to sing all the time, but then I just... stopped.”

Kurt crouches down next to him and nudges his shoulder, a gentle movement that still sends shivers down Blaine’s arm. “Well, personally I think you should start singing more often again,” Kurt comments gently. “It’d be a shame to save a voice like that for therapy sessions alone.”

Blaine swallows against the sudden lump in his throat. “I’ll think about it,” he says, keeping his eyes on the guitar case.

There’s a sudden weird feeling in his chest, not at all like the coldness he’s gotten used to –- but like something warm and alive, spreading slowly through his whole body, driving the cold away and making him feel like he could actually sing outside of work again. He hasn’t felt like that in ages, not since...

Not since Connor. Not since that last karaoke party they went to together and everything that happened right after it. Singing at work has been enough for him since then.

Or maybe he has just convinced himself that it is enough.

“Good.” Kurt stands up and pushes his cape away from his shoulders. “Honestly though, who would’ve thought I would be so good with kids? Maybe I have some magic as well.” He grins at Blaine, eyes twinkling. “Maybe I actually enchanted you all with my fabulous clothes and magical stories.”

Blaine blinks his eyes, pushing the old memories away. Tina always says that he hasn’t properly dealt with everything that happened back then, but he’s not going to start dealing with it right here and now. He looks up at Kurt, remembering what Kurt’s voice sounded like when he was singing, and smiles.

“You certainly have an enchanting singing voice.”

“Oh.” Kurt looks surprised, blinking his eyes, a blush spreading over his cheeks. “Thank you. My tutor used to compliment my voice when I was younger, but I had to stop taking singing lessons when I grew up and started to have more time-consuming responsibilities.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I can still beat most of the birds I have singing competitions with, so...”

Blaine pushes himself up from the floor and straightens his clothes. “Maybe we should both start singing more often then.”

“As duet partners?” Kurt suggests, probably at least half-joking.

The warm feeling spreads through Blaine’s body again, almost like there are butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach, making him feel both nervous and sure at the same time. Both scared out of his mind and completely fearless.

“As duet partners,” he agrees, too confused by his emotional reaction to say anything else.

The wide smile on Kurt’s face makes him feel like he said the right thing anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, people! ♥ I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

Blaine is true to his word: he does give Kurt an adventure.

Over the next two weeks Blaine takes Kurt to all the places he loves in New York, to all the parks and sights and coffee shops and clothing stores; brings him to his work whenever he can and whenever Kurt can be of help with his sessions. He teaches Kurt how to cook so they can make dinner together, shows him how to use the Internet and the television –- both things that are very much overwhelming –- and when he has to go to work alone one day, he tentatively suggests that Kurt could go out with Tina, to talk about clothes and fabrics and anything else.

Tina herself has no objections to getting to know Kurt better. Apparently she loves meeting new people, especially friends of a friend, and so Kurt has lunch with her one day when Blaine is at work. He goes to Tina’s and Mike’s apartment, and Tina makes them Caesar salad with grilled chicken. The food is good, but the conversation is a bit awkward at first, since Kurt can’t exactly talk about where he’s from and why he’s staying in New York, not honestly at least.

He is good at coming up with plausible stories that won’t make people think he’s insane, but it’s still... awkward. It’s not like he particularly likes lying.

They’ve exhausted the common pleasantries way too soon, the air quiet and uncomfortable between them, when Tina looks up from her salad, biting her lip.

“Kurt,” she says, pushing a crouton around on her plate. “Can I ask you something a bit more... personal?”

Kurt blinks, his own hands freezing above the table. “Um,” he stutters, “sure?”

Tina places her utensils down. “Remember that prince costume you were wearing the first time we met?”

Kurt swallows roughly but nods anyway, practically feeling how his skin breaks out in a nervous sweat. Here it comes, the one question he can’t answer. He still remembers the confused and concerned way Blaine looked at him the first time they met, and though Tina seems nice, he really can’t expect her to be as understanding and patient as Blaine.

Tina leans closer to him, her long hair almost falling over her plate. “Can you tell me how you made it?” she says urgently. “Please? It was so amazing, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since, and if you have any tricks for making something like that and you wouldn’t mind sharing them...”

Kurt blinks again and then laughs out loud, his shoulders relaxing. “What do you want to know?”

Tina _is_ nice. She’s witty and funny, sometimes perhaps a bit too judgmental, but she loves to talk about her work, about anything really, and something in her passion reminds Kurt of Rachel in the best possible way. She shows Kurt second-hand stores even Blaine doesn’t know about, and introduces him to a few people she knows from the theatre – like Elliott, who works in the costume department as well and has an amazing sense of style. Kurt has to sketch down countless of new ideas only after meeting him for the first time, and sometimes he can’t help but wonder if this could’ve been his life, had the universe been different -– if he would be making costumes for others from the scratch as well, sewing individual feathers into a dress until his fingers were sore and almost bleeding, and still loving every minute of it.

Tina and Elliott, and even Mike, whom Kurt bumps into every now and then, are all wonderful, and with them Kurt has something to do when Blaine can’t be with him. He still spends most of his time with Blaine, though, just because Blaine is... well, Blaine. Blaine knows about Kingleysia, knows more about Kurt than anyone else, and is quickly becoming Kurt's best friend. But with all these new people in his life he can have more adventures and doesn’t just end up sitting on Blaine’s couch for days, reading magazines or books, even though he enjoys that as well.

Kurt feels... freer in here, in some odd way. He doesn’t know the city that well, not yet, but he does know several people who do, and that means he can go almost anywhere he likes, can take his time exploring everything.

The same doesn’t work in Kingleysia where he has schedules and official meetings and not enough time for himself. His life isn’t so confined and measured in here, or dictated by different regulations and the needs of others. And New York itself is amazing –- pushing and pulsing around him as if it’s breathing everything in and talking to Kurt. It’s easy to understand why Blaine and everyone else talk about the city as if it’s a person, with its own character and rhythm.

It’s easy to understand why Rachel thought this would be a good place for his adventure.

Kurt no longer wakes up in the mornings disoriented or wishing that he was back in Kingleysia. Instead he smiles at the cracked ceiling above him and wonders what new experience will wait for him today. Of course he misses his family and his friends –- his hand still unconsciously presses against his brooch at least three times a day, hoping to feel something, some sense of warmth or magic to let him know that Kingleysia is still there.

But the brooch stays cold, and there’s an adventure waiting for him.

It’s a sunny morning on a Friday, and Kurt is standing in Blaine’s small kitchen, measuring coffee beans. He has quickly developed an addiction to coffee, even though he almost spit it out of his mouth the first time Blaine urged him to try it. But that drink is damn addictive. Kurt has no idea how he has survived in Kingleysia without it.

The coffee machine is a lot easier to handle than the television. Kurt is usually awake before Blaine, the sunlight from the big living room window waking him up at dawn, so he has started to make coffee every morning as a small thank-you for everything Blaine has done for him. He’s learned how Blaine takes his coffee by now – normally black with a bit of sugar, sometimes all that plus a dash of cinnamon -– and every morning when Blaine wakes up and smells the fresh coffee, the surprised and soft smile on his face makes Kurt’s insides flutter in the most peculiar way.

And as long as Blaine gives him that smile, Kurt will happily make coffee for him in the mornings.

He has just poured the fresh coffee into two mugs, into a plain white one with a school crest on it that Blaine uses and a bright blue cup Kurt has been using for several days already, when he hears the soft padding of Blaine’s feet from the living room. In Kingleysia Kurt was used to waking up alone in his room at the castle, with only the distant sounds of the servants doing their morning chores to keep him company. It’s somehow more comforting to know that he has actual company.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Blaine comments, his voice still gravelly and deep from sleep, but Kurt can clearly hear the smile in it.

“I know,” he replies with a grin as he looks over his shoulder. “But I want to.”

Blaine is standing in the middle of the living room, blinking his eyes sleepily in the bright morning light. His curls are pointing in every direction and falling over his forehead at the front, and there’s even an imprint of a pillow crease on his cheek. He’s only wearing a thin tank-top and a pair of pajama pants that are hanging low on his hips, their legs obviously a bit too long for him with the way they cover his feet. His bare arms look wiry and strong, the muscles and angles of his body clearly visible, and Kurt swallows roughly, his cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden.

Blaine looks so soft and comfortable, so welcoming and... _familiar_ in some odd way, and out of nowhere Kurt gets the urge to close the distance between them, to bury his hands in Blaine’s curls, pull him against his own body and just kiss those lips of his, that mouth that smiles at him every morning in a way that makes Kurt feel like there’s actually something special and magical about him that only Blaine can see.

And that’s...

It’s too much, way too much, and Kurt turns back to the coffee, his blush burning his whole face. He has no idea where that urge came from or what it means, but he knows that now that he had it, it refuses to go away, even though he’s not even looking at Blaine anymore.

He has felt the need to touch Blaine before, feels it every time he sees the sadness in Blaine’s eyes or hears the way his voice gets quiet and unsure when he talks about love, and even that’s odd in itself. Kurt is not a tactile person. He loves hugging his dad and can easily accept the casual pat on the shoulder from Finn, but he doesn’t initiate touches. With Blaine, however, he feels like he’s always reaching out to him, always ready to touch his shoulder or knee or arm or back, and when Blaine was upset after his break-up it felt completely natural to hold him in his arms.

But kissing. He’s never felt the urge to kiss Blaine before. And all those strange feelings he has, the butterflies in his stomach and the warmth he feels in his chest whenever Blaine smiles... It would be so easy to say that it’s love. That somehow Kurt Hummel, the prince of Kingleysia, is falling in love with Blaine Anderson, a music therapist from New York City. Except it makes no sense, because Kurt is not in Kingleysia anymore and love doesn’t work the same way in here as it does back home. Blaine doesn’t believe in true love, he’s said it himself, and falling in love with him is just impossible. They’re from two different worlds.

How can you fall in love with someone who can’t love you back the same way? True love doesn’t work that way. It’s all about reciprocity, so people can be truly happy. That’s what Kurt has been taught his whole life.

He stares into the brown liquid in his coffee cup. He can almost sense Blaine walking around the living room behind him, pulling the curtains back and opening the window to let some fresh air in, and Kurt’s heart constricts painfully in his chest. He has no idea what’s going on. It makes no sense to him, and for the first time in his life he realizes how complicated and messy love and everything related to it can actually feel like.

“Cinnamon this morning?” Blaine calls out, the smile still evident in his voice. “Or just sugar?”

Kurt startles from his thoughts and grabs Blaine’s mug. The coffee must be lukewarm already, but at least it’s not scalding. Kurt learned the trouble with scalding coffee the hard way.

“Cinnamon.” He takes a better hold of the mug. “I thought that since it’s Friday you could use some–-”

He turns around, only to bump right into Blaine, who was standing a lot closer than he expected. Both of their eyes widen in surprise, and the mug in Kurt’s hand hits Blaine right in the chest, the coffee sloshing over the mug’s edge with the movement and soaking the front of Blaine’s tank-top immediately.

“Oh my god!” Kurt jumps back, quickly putting the mug back on the kitchen counter and reaching for the paper towels. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there and I thought you were in the living room, I’m so sorry–-”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Blaine says, taking the paper towels from Kurt and dabbing his shirt with them. “At least it wasn’t burning hot?” he adds, flashing a smile at Kurt.

The brown stain is stark against the gray fabric, and Kurt barely manages to stop himself from trying to dry it as well. He has a vision of his own hands against Blaine’s chest, separated only by the thin and wet layer of the tank-top, and can practically feel his blush deepening.

What on earth is wrong with him this morning?

Blaine frowns down at his shirt for a moment and then looks up, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I was going to wash this shirt today anyway. At least now I’ll really get it done.”

“But you just took that shirt out yesterday,” Kurt blurts out. Blaine’s eyebrows go up in surprise, and Kurt quickly backtracks. “I-– I pay close attention to clothes. I mean, to your clothes as well.”

“Oh.” Blaine blinks, his eyebrows dropping back down again. “Well, I can still wash it today.” He touches Kurt’s arm briefly, the touch sending shivers down Kurt’s whole body. “Really, don’t worry about it. It’s just a shirt.”

“You shouldn’t talk about clothes like that in my presence,” Kurt jokes feebly.

Blaine lets out a laugh. “Sorry”, he says and steps away from Kurt, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’ll go change, and then we can have breakfast and talk about what plans we have for today, okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt replies.

Blaine turns around and starts walking back towards his bedroom, throwing one last smile at Kurt over his shoulder. When he reaches the doorway he’s already pulling the tank-top over his head, revealing even more skin. He apparently doesn’t even care that he’s still in clear view, the motions of his body casual and natural, relaxed in a way that’s miles away from the way Kurt himself is feeling right now, and Kurt’s mouth goes dry at the sight.

Blaine’s back muscles look taut and strong, flexing with the movement of his arms as he pulls the shirt higher, his sun-kissed skin almost glowing in the morning sunlight coming in from the window. Kurt’s own body feels like it’s on fire as his eyes follow the way Blaine’s shoulders taper down to his tiny waist, contrasts and lines Kurt could spend hours drawing, and he just–- He just wants to _touch_ , wants to ask Blaine to stop right there, wants to have the permission to walk up to him and let his hands explore every inch of Blaine’s body.

Blaine disappears into the bedroom, and Kurt stumbles backwards, the small of his back hitting the kitchen counter. He’s–- He has never felt like this before. Of course he has looked at some of the men in Kingleysia and thought that they looked handsome, has blushingly read the few books about sex and the physical side of love he managed to find in the castle library when he was a teenager; but he has never felt this need, this want, this overwhelming desire to be so close to someone that there’s nothing between their bodies, not even air.

And it’s not just Blaine’s body, it’s not just his angles and skin and curves, as lovely as they are. It’s everything about Blaine -– the way he laughs at Kurt’s jokes, the way his long fingers move over the strings of his guitar, the way his eyes light up when he talks about his job and the kids he works with, the way he tries so desperately to help everyone and make everyone else happy that he almost seems to forget his own happiness in the process. It’s the way Blaine smiles at Kurt in the mornings when it’s just the two of them sitting on the fire escape, or the way he grins at Kurt when they’re at the community center surrounded by singing kids.

It’s the way he makes Kurt's heart beat faster and louder whenever they’re together, and the way Kurt misses him when they’re apart. It’s the aching feeling of being finally home.

But it can’t be. It’s impossible.

 

\---

 

“–-and then Rosario suggested that we should just cover the tear with a different fabric, as if no one would notice a stretch of different fabric shining through at the back of the costume. I almost threw my pair of scissors at her, if you can... Kurt, are you even listening to me?”

Kurt startles from his thoughts when Tina waves her hand in front of his face. He almost drops the second-hand scarf in his hands –- a beautiful delicate thing with tiny pictures of birds and skulls crisscrossing across the dark fabric, the whole pattern looking like something abstract and nonsensical when seen from afar –- but it only slips across his fingers a little until he manages to close his hand around it, careful not to stretch the fabric.

The confused thoughts about Blaine and true love scatter immediately, pushed to the back of his mind again.

“Sorry,” he says, flashing a small smile at Tina. “I was thinking of something else.”

Tina tilts her head in question, her expression worried. “You looked like you were in a whole other world for a moment there. Everything okay?”

Kurt unconsciously touches the brooch on his chest, the golden surface still and cold beneath his palm. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he lies. “Just got lost in my thoughts. Are you going to get this scarf? Because you should.”

Tina purses her lips. “Mike says I have enough scarves already.”

“How dare he!” Kurt gasps. “You can never have enough scarves.”

Tina laughs. “You’re absolutely right –- but we did promise that we would save money for our honeymoon.” She takes the scarf from Kurt’s hands and folds it gently. “And I’m afraid getting the honeymoon of our dreams with my husband is more important to me than a pretty scarf. Even though it is exceptionally pretty,” she adds, mournfully glancing at the scarf one last time.

Kurt coos, placing his hand over his heart. His inner romantic loves it when Tina talks about her fiancé. “Tina, that is so-– You two are really it, aren’t you?”

Tina shrugs, but Kurt can tell that she’s blushing. “We wouldn’t be getting married if we didn’t think we were.” She moves on to the next rack, her hands sliding over the coats in it. Kurt likes the way Tina touches clothes -– appreciatively, as if they’re works of art. “I mean, who knows what will happen in the future,” Tina goes on, “but for the last five years he has been the love of my life, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon.”

Kurt smiles, following Tina through the store, breathing in the sweet, musky scent of old clothes and accessories. “How does Blaine feel about your marriage?” he can’t help but ask, looking away so Tina can’t see his expression.

“He’s been really supportive and happy, of course.” Tina stops and turns to look at Kurt, narrowing her eyes. “Why? Why do you ask? Has he said something?”

“No, nothing,” Kurt rushes to say, “just, I thought–- with his attitude towards love and so on...”

“Oh.” Tina blinks her eyes once. “He’s talked to you about that?” she asks, and then immediately shakes her head, her shoulders slumping down. “What am I saying, of course he’s talked to you about it...”

Kurt fiddles with the cuffs of the coat right next to him in the rack, swallowing against the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

Tina sighs. “He wasn’t always like that, you know.” She is looking at something behind Kurt’s shoulder, her eyes somewhere far away.

Kurt freezes. He thinks about Blaine clinging to him, barely able to speak through his tears, remembers the words _I wanted to find my true love_ whispered against his chest. “He wasn’t?”

Tina shakes her head again. “No, he was... He was a lot like me, actually, when it comes to love. Like us, I suppose.” She lets out a small laugh. “All hopeful and believing, singing about his feelings and wearing his heart out on his sleeve. He was so impulsive and overdramatic sometimes that it would’ve been so easy to call it foolish, but somehow Blaine always made his grand romantic gestures seem thoughtful. You haven’t known him that long, have you?” she says, finally looking at Kurt.

“Not that long.” Kurt presses his hand against his brooch again, more in a gesture of nervousness than anything else, his thoughts running in circles at the mental image of Blaine doing some sort of a grand romantic gesture –- serenading his true love in public, or shouting their name from the rooftops. It doesn’t actually seem that far-fetched. “Even though it sometimes feels like I’ve known him for–- for a longer time.”

Tina shrugs and starts riffling through the coats again. “He’s a lot more careful these days. A lot more... reserved.” Her hands stop at a dark red blazer, something Kurt could see Blaine wearing. “I think you might be good for him, though,” Tina adds, her voice purposefully nonchalant.

Kurt frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he seems a lot more open when he’s with you, for starters.” Tina flicks her hair over her shoulder. She lets go of the blazer, sliding it back into the rack with the others and turning to face Kurt again. “I haven’t seen him smile like that in...”

She trails off, a worried furrow appearing between her brows. She’s quiet for so long that Kurt starts to feel uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and glancing around the store. They’re practically the only customers there – there is an older gentleman with a worn-out suit going through the ties and bowties near the back, and a small group of teenage girls is gathered around a table full of old records, but other than that the store is completely empty. Even the cashier seems to have disappeared into the backroom for a moment.

“Tina?” Kurt ventures. “I’m kind of expecting a full sentence to emerge at some point.”

“I was just trying to remember the last time I saw Blaine smile,” Tina replies, the furrow on her forehead deepening. “Really smile, I mean -– he’s Blaine, he’s almost always smiling in one way or another, but it’s been a long time since I saw him... _beam_ the way he used to. With his eyes all squinty and his eyebrows doing that weird pointy triangle thing?” She makes a vague gesture near her own eyes, turning to look at Kurt. “Have you seen him do that?”

Kurt blinks, surprised, but–- “Y-yes?” he tries, going through the catalogue of Blaine’s different smiles he has in his head, and honestly, when did he even start collecting them like this? “I’ve seen him smile like that. I think.”

“Exactly!” Tina points at him, something almost scary or manic in her eyes. She really does remind Kurt of Rachel sometimes. “And I saw him smile like that as well, on that day Mike and I bumped into you for the first time.” She drops her hand. “I hadn’t seen him smile like that in... god knows how long. Not after... Well, after that one time we went to sing karaoke and–-” She shakes her head, as if suddenly realizing what she’s about to say. “Never mind. Anyway, that’s why I think you’re good for him,” she finishes.

Kurt blinks again, standing carefully still in case Tina starts pointing at him again. Her finger did come scarily close to his nose.

“Because you make him smile for real,” Tina adds, turning away with a shrug, her hands already reaching for the coats again. “I can’t remember Nathan ever making him smile like that,” she mutters under her breath.

“Not Nathan’s biggest fan, then?” Kurt can’t help but ask.

Tina shrugs, a sharp movement of her shoulders that makes her long hair bounce a little. “He’s alright as a person. I just don’t think he and Blaine are right for each other. I don’t think Nathan really cares about anyone or anything.”

“You must be glad that they broke up,” Kurt says, his voice coming out a little brittle. The words ‘broke up’ still feel strange in his mouth, like something he still can’t quite understand, but not as strange as Tina casually trashing Blaine’s ex-boyfriend when even Blaine himself hasn’t said anything mean about Nathan.

Next to him Tina freezes. She turns around slowly, her upper body staying unnaturally still.

“What do you mean, ‘they broke up’?” Tina asks, drawing out the words, her eyes narrowing.

Kurt raises his eyebrows in question. “That they broke up? Isn’t that the correct expression?” he asks, suddenly wondering if the words mean something different in different dialects. He knows from experience that talking to people from different parts of Kingleysia can sometimes be very confusing, and he never thought to ask Blaine if the same is true for New York as well.

“Kurt, please don’t start with that attitude right now.” Tina points at him again, her expression severe, and okay, no dialect problem then. “How long have they been broken up?”

The weird part is that Kurt doesn’t even have to think about his answer; apparently smiles are not the only thing about Blaine he has memorized. “Over two weeks by now? Yeah, it’ll be three weeks next Monday.”

Tina takes a deep breath. Her eyes are blazing, hands clenched into fists, and Kurt automatically takes a step away from her. The teenage girls burst into loud giggles on the other side of the store, but Tina doesn’t even react.

“We’re leaving,” Tina says after a moment, turning on her heels and walking towards the entrance. Kurt hesitates for a few seconds and then follows her, keeping a careful distance between them. He can handle Rachel Berry’s dramatics just fine, but those of Tina Cohen-Chang are still completely new to him.

 

\---

 

They reach Blaine’s apartment just as Blaine himself is putting his key into the lock on his door, guitar case on the floor next to his feet and a crinkly paper bag clasped in his hand. He looks up when he hears Tina’s thundering footsteps, his face immediately breaking into a smile, and oh, there it is again, that grin that makes Kurt’s heart do all sorts of funny things.

“Hey, you two!” Blaine greets them, pushing the door open. “You’re right on time -– I bought some extra croissants from the bakery on my way home, so we can share if–- Tina?”

Tina marches up to him, stopping only when she almost knocks Blaine’s guitar case over. “Did you and Nathan break up?” she blurts out, leaning into Blaine’s personal space and staring right into his eyes.

Blaine startles, the paper bag falling from his hand and hitting the floor with a small thud. “W-what?”

“Did you and Nathan break up?” Tina repeats, her voice going slightly softer at the look on Blaine’s face.

“How did you find out about that?” Blaine asks, his shoulders tensing, and Kurt can tell from his expression that he’s closing up again, pulling away.

“That’s my fault,” he pipes up, stepping closer. Blaine’s eyes snap to him. “I mentioned it to Tina when we were out shopping. I-– I’m so sorry, Blaine. I wasn’t thinking, and I assumed Tina knew about it already,” he rushes out.

Blaine opens his mouth a few times, looking between the two of them. “It’s-– It’s fine,” he says eventually, running his hand through his hair. “Can we... Can we just take this conversation inside? Please?”

Kurt swallows. It’s obviously not fine, judging from the way Blaine’s expression has closed off. Even Tina seems to realize that her harsh approach wasn’t probably the best idea, and when she steps into the apartment she touches Blaine’s arm for a moment, as if in apology. Kurt comes closer, bending his head to meet Blaine’s eyes.

“Blaine,” he says in a low voice, hoping that Tina doesn’t hear them, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything –- we were just talking about something else and I accidentally let it slip and...” He bites his lip, searching Blaine’s face. He looks overwhelmed and surprised more than anything else, but it’s obvious he’s not exactly happy about this turn of events either. “Do you–- Do you want me to leave you two alone?” Kurt asks, glancing towards the apartment. Tina is sitting on the couch, fiddling with her handbag.

Blaine sighs, his hand going to his hair again. “No, it's... You don’t have to go. You might as well be present for this.” He bends down to pick up the paper bag, now even crinklier than before, and hands it to Kurt before taking his guitar case. “I had completely forgot to tell her about me and Nathan, what with everything else going on, and...”

He looks troubled, and Kurt instinctively reaches out, only hesitating for a moment before he touches Blaine’s arm, letting his hand linger for a few seconds too long.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

Blaine shrugs, and then gestures for Kurt to step inside.

Tina looks up from her hands when they walk in, her eyes immediately settling on Blaine. She doesn’t stand up, but she straightens her shoulders, her expression worried.

“Are you alright?” she asks Blaine, ignoring Kurt as he drops the paper bag on the sofa table and retreats to the other side of the room.

Blaine places his guitar case on the floor. “About the break-up, you mean?”

“Yes. He wasn't mean to you or anything? Do I need to kick his ass?”

“I’m fine.” Blaine crosses his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t like... It wasn’t like the last time. Nathan was really nice about it, like I told Kurt." His lips twitch with a small smile. "I’m okay, really. No ass-kicking needed.”

Tina purses her lips, looking at Blaine intently. “Good. I’m glad that it... wasn’t like before.” She pushes herself up from the couch, combing her fingers through her long hair. “I guess I’m just wondering why you didn’t tell me earlier. Why I had to hear about it from Kurt, and not from you.”

She blinks her eyes quickly, and Kurt suddenly realizes that she’s close to tears, her hands shaking on her sides.

“Tina...” Blaine starts, stepping closer, his hands falling down from his chest.

“Because I wanted to help,” Tina says, her voice quivering. “I know that you and I don’t have the same kind of friendship that you and Sam do, and I know that I can’t fill his place now that he went back to Kentucky, but I... I was so worried when Kurt told me you had broken up. You need to understand that.”

Blaine closes the distance between them, placing his hands on Tina’s arms and rubbing them up and down. “Hey, hey, of course I understand that,” he says softly, bending down to look into Tina’s eyes. “And you have no reason to compare yourself to Sam, okay? You are two completely different people.”

Tina takes a deep breath. “So it wasn’t because I’ve been a bad friend to you or something?”

Blaine immediately shakes his head. “No. Definitely not. I’ve just been so busy with work and showing Kurt around the city-–” He glances to Kurt, giving him a small smile, and Kurt smiles back at him, ignoring the warm flutter in his heart. “-– and I was upset at first, of course I was. I still am, if I think about it too long. But I’m good now. Honestly. It wasn’t like Connor. You don’t have to worry about me so much, Tina.”

Tina gives a smile, her hands steady again. “You really are okay, aren’t you?” she wonders out loud. She huffs out a soft laugh, ducking her head. “I was right. He is good for you.”

Kurt freezes, his hand stilling where he’s been playing with his brooch.

Blaine frowns in confusion, the gentle smile still on his face. “Who is?”

“Never mind.” Tina shakes her head and wipes a few stray tears away from her cheeks. “I’m just babbling. I’m glad that you’re okay.” She narrows her eyes playfully. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for not telling me.”

Blaine laughs, squeezing Tina’s arms one last time. “Fine, I guess I deserve it.” He takes a step back. “Are you staying for croissants with me and Kurt?”

Tina looks to Kurt, and something in her expression makes Kurt swallow roughly. She looks considering, but he can’t tell what she’s actually considering and whether it’s something good or bad.

“I think I should get back to Mike,” she says slowly, still keeping her eyes on Kurt. “We sort of had plans for tonight. Oh, but wait-–” She swirls around to face Blaine, clasping her hands under her chin. “Have you had the break-up nightclub yet?”

“No...?” Blaine glances to Kurt as well. God, it’s so weird to be the third wheel in the room and still feel like Blaine is doing everything he can to include Kurt – meeting his eyes even when he’s talking to Tina and bringing him up in conversation even though there’s no need to. It’s making Kurt feel as if Blaine really does see something magical in him, something no one else can see, something that makes him look at Kurt again and again.

It's not exactly helping his feelings.

Tina claps her hands. “Excellent! This Saturday. I’ll text you the details.” She grabs her handbag from the couch and then points at Blaine. “And you have to bring Kurt as well, okay?”

“I... Okay?” Blaine follows her to the door. “Are _we_ okay?”

“Yes, Blainey-days.” Tina leans in and pecks Blaine’s cheek. “Show up on Saturday with Kurt, and we’re completely okay.”

She winks at Kurt, her grin softening into something almost thankful for a quick moment -– and then she’s gone, walking out as fast as she marched into Blaine’s apartment. Blaine blinks after her, closing the door and slowly turning to face Kurt. He doesn’t look troubled anymore, but he does look quite confused.

“Blainey-days?” Kurt can’t help but ask, hiding his grin behind his hand.

Blaine groans. “Don’t ask. She came up with that nickname during our freshmen year, and she still pulls it out whenever I least expect it.”

Kurt snorts quietly, pushing himself off the wall and taking a few steps towards Blaine. “I’m... I’m really sorry that I told Tina about your break-up,” he says again, wringing his hands.

Blaine waves his hand in the air. “No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not _fine_ and I should’ve been the one to tell her, but... Don’t worry about it. Tina can get a bit overdramatic about things like this, and I was just surprised when you two showed up like that." He runs his hand through his curls. "I guess it all still turned out alright.”

“Rachel can be just as overdramatic,” Kurt offers, shrugging his shoulders. “But still. I am sorry,” he insists. He doesn’t want to hurt Blaine, not even accidentally.

Blaine looks at him and smiles. “Apology accepted.” He moves to the couch and picks up the paper bag, carefully opening it. “Croissants?”

“Sure.” Kurt walks over and sits down next to Blaine. The croissants are obviously from the bakery Blaine showed him last week, the one that made Kurt’s mouth salivate a bit too much than is appropriate for a prince, and Kurt ducks his head with a smile when Blaine offers him the biggest croissant. “Thank you. Now can you please tell me what on earth a ‘break-up nightclub’ is before I start imagining the worst possible ideas?”

Blaine lets out a laugh. “It’s just the tradition of going to a nightclub after a break-up. I think Mike came up with it years ago?” He takes a bite of his croissant, carefully eating and swallowing it before he goes on, even brushing away the crumbs on his lips, and somehow Kurt finds his manners completely endearing. “It’s basically just loud music, lots of dancing, and lots of alcohol, if you want to get drunk.”

“Oh. So like a party?” Kurt doesn’t really understand how a break-up can be a reason for a party, but maybe that’s how things work in New York.

“Like a party,” Blaine repeats with a smile.

Kurt looks away, his cheeks heating up. Tina says that she hasn’t seen Blaine really, genuinely smile in a long time, but to Kurt it feels like all of Blaine’s smiles are more or less real. There’s nothing fake about them -– Blaine seems to smile whenever he feels happy or bashful, whenever he’s laughing at one of Kurt’s awkward jokes or wants to comfort someone or make them feel better. He smiles when he’s proud of the kids he works with, or proud of Kurt for understanding how some New York gadget works, or...

Kurt really is cataloguing Blaine’s smiles, isn’t he? God, he’s hopeless.

Blaine’s bumps Kurt’s shoulder with his own, misinterpreting his thoughtful expression for nervousness. “Don’t worry. Nightclubs can be a lot of fun in the right company.”

Kurt gives a small smile and takes a bite of his own croissant. He can’t be falling in love with Blaine. It makes no sense, not when their worlds are so different, not when Blaine’s beliefs about love seem so confusing and different from his own, not when they are literally from two different worlds and Kurt has his responsibilities to Kingleysia.

There is a small piece of croissant stuck on the corner of Blaine’s mouth, and Kurt almost reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb. He wants to lean in and kiss Blaine, chase the salty and greasy aftertaste of the croissant on Blaine’s lips, wants to feel Blaine’s smile against his own.

Despite everything, it still feels a lot like falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tina ships it, oh la la... ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD FINALLY IT’S HERE. This chapter was very difficult to write, so please say nice things if you liked it, m’kay? ;)

Blaine is humming.

He doesn’t even realize it when he’s tying his bowtie in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to make sure that both sides of the tie are even in size and that the small golden pattern doesn’t look slanted. He strokes his hands over the tie one last time and then reaches for his hair gel, shaking his hips to the melody of some new pop song that has been stuck in his head ever since he heard it on the radio at the community center the other day, and–-

He stops suddenly, and the melody stops as well.

He was humming. Actually humming; something he can’t remember doing for a long time, not unless he was rehearsing a song for one of his sessions and needed to hear at least something that resembled a voice. Humming used to feel just as awkward as flat-out singing, his throat going tight and the sound echoing uncomfortably around his empty apartment, the words Connor had yelled at him that night rising back to the surface and clogging his voice.

But here he is, standing in his tiny bathroom, unconsciously humming a tune, his body instinctively trying to move in time with the sound. Before he noticed what he was doing he was probably even _this_ close to opening his mouth and actually singing the words out loud.

Blaine looks up, slowly meeting his own eyes in the mirror, searching for... something. He doesn’t look that different –- still the same clothes, still the same wild hair unless he gels it down, still the same lines in the corners of his eyes when he squints –- but obviously there is something different about him. Perhaps he looks a bit more content, a bit more at ease. A little happier and somewhat steadier. He’s changing, unconsciously and without even keeping track of it himself, a stark contrast to what he did after his break-up with Connor when he deliberately pushed everything away, made radical changes just to feel like he could breathe again.

Blaine squeezes a little bit of hair gel on his palm and carefully flattens the most stubborn curls, fingering his hair until it looks good in his own eyes. Relaxed, but still restrained. He washes his hands, still staring at his own reflection, watching the barely noticeable way his chest moves as he breathes in and out. Somewhere outside the bathroom Kurt is walking around the apartment as he picks out his own clothes for their night out, his footsteps echoing in the small space, a background noise for Blaine’s thoughts, giving them a rhythm and a pulse.

Blaine doesn’t know why or how, but somehow it almost feels like he’s finally moving on.

Kurt’s footsteps come closer, and then there’s a sharp knock on the bathroom door.

“Blaine? Are you finished in there?” A pause. “I’m... I’m kind of in the middle of a crisis.”

Blaine frowns and reaches for the towel to dry his hands. “A crisis?” he calls out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes?” Kurt calls back, his voice hesitant. “Or... no? I’m not...”

Blaine can feel his own frown deepening, and he grabs the handle, pushing the bathroom door open.

Kurt is standing in the hallway, still in the comfortable clothes he was wearing earlier. The t-shirt he has on is actually one of the clothes Blaine lent him during one of his first days in New York, and it stretches tightly over Kurt’s broader chest, just a tiny bit too small on him. Blaine swallows roughly, the sight making something odd and warm pool in his stomach, and snaps his eyes quickly back to Kurt’s face.

“Um, Kurt...” he starts cautiously, “why aren’t you wearing the clothes you picked out from that store yesterday? I thought you said you wanted to wear them tonight.” He pauses, taking in Kurt’s slumped shoulders. “Or do you not want to go? Because I can call Tina and-–”

“I want to go,” Kurt interrupts, meeting Blaine’s eyes. “It’s just... My hair.”

Blaine looks at Kurt’s hair, drooping sadly over his forehead, almost in a way that reminds Blaine of the rainy night when they first met. It’s not styled in any way but still somehow manages to look absolutely adorable. “What about your hair?” he asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“It’s not doing what it’s supposed to do!” Kurt exclaims helplessly, gesturing at the top of his head. “It’s not going up like it normally does when I just run my fingers through it, it just stays like this, all depressing and limp, and I–-”

“Wait, hold on.” Blaine blinks and lifts his hand to stop Kurt’s tirade. “Are you saying that you don’t normally use _any_ product in your hair? That it just... looks the way it does naturally?”

“Yes?” Kurt hands fall back down, his shoulders slumping even further, a strand of hair falling over his eyes. “It’s how things work in Kingleysia,” he goes on. “I just brush my fingers through my hair and that’s it.” He rolls his eyes, puffing out a breath. “I guess it’s all part of the magical environment or something...”

Blaine gapes at him. “A magical environment that gives you perfect hair? Can I move there?”

Kurt scrunches his nose. “But your hair is already so nice.”

“It’s really not.” Blaine automatically touches the wild curls he has barely managed to tame down. “But thank you.”

Kurt’s mouth twitches with a smile before he runs his own hand through his hair, still drooping sadly. “I can’t go out looking like this, Blaine. And I–- I don’t understand why my hair is suddenly acting like this? It’s been fine before, even though I’m not in Kingleysia anymore, but now...” He looks away, something that looks a bit like worry flashing across his face.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard about the wonders of hairspray yet,” Blaine replies, grinning when Kurt looks back at him in confusion. “Come on, we’ll get that coif of yours styled in no time.”

He shows Kurt all the possible products he can use on his hair and then leaves him in the bathroom to style his look in peace. It’s already dark outside, the city lights shining brightly through the living room window, and Blaine walks over to pull the curtains closed and to make sure the window to the fire escape is locked. He smiles to himself when he sees Kurt’s clothes neatly stacked on the couch, his hand hovering above them for a moment before he shakes his head to clear the mess in his mind and moves to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

He scrolls through his phone as he drinks, quickly scanning a few new e-mails he has and checking the address and the name of the nightclub Mike had chosen for tonight from his text messages. He is just answering a new message from Tina when he hears the bathroom door open and the smell of hairspray and other various hair products floods the apartment.

“Well, how do I look?”

Blaine looks up and feels his heart stutter inside his chest. Kurt is standing in the middle of the living room, arms spread out, a hopeful smile on his lips. His hair is styled even higher than usual, bringing out the sharpness of his cheekbones and shape of his eyes, but still somehow looking natural and soft, as if magic really is holding all the strands in place. Kurt apparently took his chosen outfit to the bathroom as well, because instead of the t-shirt and sweatpants he is now wearing skin-tight black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a small pattern of dark swirls on it.

The jeans are sinfully tight, hugging every inch and curve of Kurt’s legs and making them look even longer, and Blaine doesn’t understand why the sight is suddenly making his throat feel dry. He has seen Kurt in jeans like that before –- okay, he hasn’t seen him in jeans quite _that_ tight, but the tights he was wearing when he first arrived in New York were pretty tight as well –- and, yeah, Kurt is a good-looking man who could wear practically anything and still look like the love child of a runway model and a Disney prince. But this–-

Somehow this sight is making Blaine swallow roughly against the dryness in his throat, something warm spreading through his body as he looks Kurt up and down. And it’s not just the jeans, it’s not just the way Kurt looks and the way the shirt collar is open and reveals his pale neck; it’s the way he is standing, how he carries himself, the way he looks at Blaine and seems so excited about the prospect of going to a nightclub. If Blaine let himself think, if he allowed himself to recognize these feelings, he would know immediately what they are. But he can’t do that.

“You look... Wow,” he manages to breathe out after a long moment.

Kurt blushes, his smile softening. “Thank you. Am I nightclub appropriate?”

“You-–” Blaine shakes his head, placing his phone on the kitchen counter, the conversation with Tina forgotten. “You look amazing, Kurt. You are definitely nightclub appropriate.”

Kurt’s smile widens, his teeth showing the way they do whenever he’s genuinely excited. “You’re looking quite dashing yourself,” he replies. “I like what you did with your hair. It looks... different. More relaxed.”

Blaine instinctively reaches to touch his curls, feeling a blush of his own heating his cheeks. When he looks up his eyes focus on the front of Kurt’s shirt, or more specifically, on what’s not there.

“You’re not taking your brooch?” he asks, surprised. He has never seen Kurt without it, unless he was sleeping, and even then the brooch is always on the sofa table within reach. The brooch is a constant, always pinned to Kurt’s shirt, no matter what he’s wearing or where he’s going. It looks odd to see him without it, as if something is missing from his ensemble.

“Oh.” Kurt pulls the brooch out of his pocket, turning it over in his hand. “I don’t know if I should? I don’t want to lose it in a new place with so many new people, but on the other hand...” He frowns, closing his fingers around the brooch.

“You’ve never been afraid of losing it before,” Blaine points out, searching Kurt’s face. He’s obviously conflicted, though Blaine doesn’t really understand why Kurt would want to leave the brooch at home in the first place. He’s always worn it automatically before, switching it from shirt to shirt and straightening it in front of the hall mirror every time they leave the apartment, Blaine following the movements of Kurt’s long fingers from the doorway as he waits for him.

Kurt looks up, finding Blaine’s eyes. There’s something in his blue eyes, some unknown twist or turn in the galaxies Blaine noticed that first night that he can’t read this time, almost as if Kurt is assessing Blaine, looking for something Blaine is not so sure he can provide. He blinks against Kurt’s stare, raising his eyebrows and trying to keep his facial expression neutral.

After a moment Kurt nods, brows furrowing in determination. “I think I’ll leave it home this time,” he says slowly, moving his eyes away from Blaine. “One evening completely free from my princely duties,” he jokes and flashes a grin.

Blaine watches as Kurt walks to the couch, carefully placing the brooch on top of his folded clothes. Blaine’s heart feels both light and heavy at the same time, full of something he can’t quite grasp. Does Kurt really think of Blaine’s apartment as his home? Does he really walk through the door and feel like he’s coming home, even though there’s nothing here except the sofa bed and the creaking pipes in the bathroom, the fire escape and Blaine himself? Kurt is obviously comfortable in the space, in the whole city, or at least a lot more comfortable than he was during the first days, but it’s... It took so long for Blaine himself to feel like home in New York, in this apartment even. Sometimes he still doesn’t quite feel like it, even though these days it feels easier and easier to breathe and call this space his own.

Kurt’s comment was probably just a figure of speech, a mindless slip of the tongue, but it still makes Blaine swallow against his dry throat again.

Kurt’s fingertips linger over the brooch for a moment, but then he straightens his back and turns to look at Blaine, his smile somehow even brighter than it was before. “So. Are we ready?” he asks, holding out his hand for Blaine.

Blaine breathes out and lets his own mouth turn into a smile. He can’t not, not when Kurt is looking at him like that. “I think we are.”

He doesn’t even hesitate when he takes Kurt’s hand.

 

\---

 

The nightclub is loud and pulsing around them when they step inside, and Kurt halts right on the edge of the room, looking around with wide eyes. The dance floor is already full of people, bodies moving in an uneven rhythm and grinding against each other, the strobe lights flashing above them. The air smells like sweat and alcohol and a mix of different perfumes and aftershaves, and Blaine can only guess how overwhelming it must be like for Kurt to step from the cool night air into this -– into something Kingleysia probably doesn’t have, at least not in this caliber.

The loud bass of the music is making Blaine’s chest feel like it’s vibrating, like his muscles are thrumming with something new, and he touches Kurt’s shoulder carefully, startling him.

“You okay?” he asks over the music.

“Yeah!” Kurt yells back and leans closer to Blaine, a whiff of his hairspray and the unique scent of his skin reaching Blaine’s nose. “It’s just so loud! Is it always this loud in a nightclub?”

Blaine laughs, moving closer as well. Something about the darkness of the room is making him want to be as close to Kurt as possible, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest, almost matching the beat of the music. “Pretty much,” he answers, rolling his eyes. “Unless you come here on a Monday or something, I suppose, but-–”

Someone runs towards them from the dance floor, the flashing lights concealing their face, and then there are suddenly arms around Blaine’s neck. Before he has a chance to react Tina is screaming in his ear, making him stumble back with the force of her hug.

“You made it!” she yells, finally letting go of him and moving to give Kurt a hug that’s just as enthusiastic. Kurt meets Blaine’s eyes over her head, his expression startled, and Blaine laughs. “Come on, Mike said he would buy the first round for you! Isn’t that great?” Tina exclaims once she lets go of Kurt. Her smile has that slightly crazy edge in it that Blaine is very familiar with.

“I think you’ve already had a few rounds, Tina,” he replies, sharing a look with Kurt.

Tina slaps his arm before she starts leading them towards the bar. “I’ve had a very stressful week at work, okay? I deserve to unwind,” she calls over her shoulder.

Blaine laughs and glances back at Kurt. Kurt is following them, but his eyes are still glued to the dance floor, curious and appraising. The song changes to something with an even faster beat, and Kurt turns to look back at Blaine, grinning a bit hesitantly.

“The music is quite different from what I’ve heard before,” he says, leaning right into Blaine’s personal space again, his lips close to Blaine’s ear, his breath tickling Blaine’s cheek. “And they’re all dancing very close to each other.”

A group of women brushes past them, a few of them stumbling with their steps, and the movement pushes Kurt even closer, their arms bumping. Blaine automatically reaches out to steady Kurt, his hands ending up on his waist. The touch sends shivers up his arms, his whole body feeling warm all of a sudden, and Kurt looks up, staring into Blaine’s eyes with something unreadable in his own gaze.

Why does something about Kurt feel so new all of a sudden?

“It’s-– It’s just the way people dance here,” Blaine stutters out, slowly letting go of Kurt but still not stepping away. There are people all around him and the music is loud, so it’s only practical that he stays so close to him.

“Oh.” Kurt blinks. He doesn’t look away from Blaine, and god, it feels like Blaine is stripped completely bare in front of him, like Kurt can see everything, every feeling he has ever pushed away and every conflict he’s fighting. “That sounds... intriguing. I can’t wait to try it out,” Kurt says, flashing a mischievous grin.

He even winks at Blaine, and Blaine freezes.

“Come on, what are you having?” Tina yells from the bar, Mike laughing behind her. “I want to go dance with my almost-husband!”

Kurt smiles at Blaine and steps away from him, leaving him standing alone for a moment as his brain catches up with what just happened.

Was Kurt just... _flirting_ with him?

That’s-- They are friends, they are close; incredibly so, considering how they haven’t even known each other for that long. Every time they talk Blaine feels like Kurt understands him in a way no one else does, in a way he has always hoped someone would understand him. He has even been having more fun lately, with showing Kurt around the city and just having someone to talk to during breakfast and dinner every day. Blaine is a people person, always has been, and he hadn’t really realized how much he had missed having someone in his space, someone who makes him laugh and smile, someone who will watch bad reality television with him –- Kurt has very quickly developed an obsession for _Project Runway_ and _Jersey Shore_ , so quickly, actually, that it sometimes baffles Blaine.

He has missed having someone who just is there.

But being there has never before involved flirting, not unless normal kindness and friendship can be seen as flirting. Now, though; the way Kurt grinned and winked... It was obviously flirting. It hasn’t been so long that Blaine wouldn’t recognize it.

Except. Except why would Kurt be flirting with him?

Blaine shakes his head and turns around, taking the last few steps to the bar, sidestepping a few dancing people. He joins his friends just in time to hear Kurt explaining to Mike that he doesn’t want to drink anything too strong because of “an unfortunate incident in my youth”.

“Oh my god, what did you do?” Tina asks, leaning against Mike’s shoulder and staring at Kurt with wide eyes. “You didn’t, like, throw up on anyone or anything?”

Kurt grimaces and averts his gaze.

“Oh my god!” Tina screams, reaching over to slap Kurt’s arm. “Oh my god, you did throw up on someone!”

“Honestly?” Mike asks, brows furrowed. He pulls Tina back to his side before she slaps Kurt again and signals to the bartender with his other hand. “You drank so much that you threw up on somebody?”

Kurt sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “My brother and I wanted to see what would happen if we drank as much beer as we could handle. One of his idiot friends came up with the idea, and as you can imagine, it didn’t end well. I have tried to avoid stronger drinks or drinking too much ever since.”

Blaine leans closer, smiling at the story. “So who did you throw up on?”

Kurt startles, obviously not expecting Blaine to be so close, but he recovers quickly, an embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks. His skin is so pale that the blush is visible even in the club’s dim lighting.

“My tutor. I mean, one of my teachers,” he admits, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Her shoes didn't survive it.”

Tina bursts into laughter, resting most of her weight against the bar and cackling so loudly that a few people close to them turn to look. Mike looks like he’s trying his best to keep a straight face, but the corners of his mouth are twitching tellingly. Blaine pats Kurt’s shoulder in consolation.

“Don’t worry, Tina is a very loud drunk,” he points out quietly, making Kurt look a little less embarrassed.

“Oh my god,” Tina wheezes, pushing herself upright as she tries to stop laughing. “That sounds so embarrassing, god. I hope you weren’t suspended or anything?”

Kurt sighs. “No, I just got a very stern talking-to and was grounded for two weeks. My brother got the same punishment, but it was worse for him because he had just met his true lo–-” Kurt seems to catch himself in time and shakes his head. “I mean, he had just met his girlfriend and would’ve wanted to spend time with her. Obviously.”

Tina’s smile turns smaller, more private, and he leans against Mike, trailing her hand down his arm. “Yeah, I can understand how annoying that could’ve been.”

Blaine looks away and tries to ignore the familiar twinge in his heart at the casual display of their love. They seem so happy, like their own comfortable unit, and he is happy for them, of course he is –- Tina and Mike are his friends, and it’s wonderful that they have found each other –- but he can’t help but... ache a little whenever he sees them together like this. Because he doesn’t know if he himself will ever have that.

“Alright, so nothing too strong for Kurt,” Mike says with a grin and then looks at Blaine. “Are you having your usual?”

“Yeah, sure,” Blaine replies absent-mindedly. “I don’t want to get too drunk tonight.”

The bartender finally makes her way over to them, and Mike turns around to place their order.

“Blaine,” Tina says and points at him in a way that would make Cooper proud, even if her aim is a bit wobbly. “We’re here to help you get over he-who-shall-not-be-named. That’s the whole idea. So you need to be drunk.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m over Nathan, Tina, thank you very much.”

Tina pouts, but then turns around as well, saying something to Mike as he waits for their drinks. Kurt leans against the bar, the position making his shirt shift in a way that shows even more of his neck and chest, and Blaine looks away, feeling suddenly guilty for ogling Kurt.

“Are you really over him?” Kurt asks, keeping his voice as low as possible to still be heard over the music. He is searching Blaine’s face, that unknown glint in his eyes again. Or maybe it’s just the reflection of the strobe lights.

Blaine glances towards the dance floor. Connor used to love clubs like this, loud and impersonal; he loved them a lot more than the intimate karaoke or piano bars Blaine himself prefers. “I am”, he replies. “Why do you ask?”

Kurt shrugs and doesn’t answer his question. “You have seemed less tense lately,” he says instead. “You’ll find your true love one day, Blaine. Someone like you will definitely find it.”

Blaine startles, and he can feel the old walls pushing up again, something that hasn’t happened around Kurt for weeks. He opens his mouth to give his usual retort about not believing in true love, about it only hurting you in the end, but suddenly Tina steps into their circle, two drinks in hand.

“Here you go,” she trills, handing one of them to Kurt and the other one to Blaine. Mike joins them with Tina’s drink and nothing for himself –- Blaine knows that Mike comes to nightclubs for the dancing, not for the alcohol. “Alright, we need to toast to something,” Tina goes on and raises her own glass. “To... To new opportunities!”

Kurt obediently repeats the words and tastes his own drink, looking pleasantly surprised by its taste. Blaine stares at Tina, raising his eyebrows in question. Tina only smirks at him over the rim of her own glass.

“Tina...” Blaine starts. He suddenly has a bad feeling about this night.

The song changes to a remix of some old hit, and Tina’s smirk quickly morphs into an excited grin.

“Oh, I love this song!” She downs her drink in one go, Kurt’s eyes widening at the gesture, and then slams her glass on the bar. “Come on, let’s go dance!”

But instead of Mike, she reaches for Kurt.

“I-– I thought you wanted to dance with your almost-husband?” Kurt says warily, glancing to Blaine.

Tina shrugs, her eyes flitting to Blaine as well, before she looks back at Kurt. “Mike can wait. It’s your first night out in New York with us, so I want to dance with you.”

Kurt opens his mouth to say something, but before any of them have a chance to react, Tina is already taking his drink from him, thrusting it into Blaine’s hands and pulling him towards the dance floor. Kurt follows her, his eyes still wide in surprise, and he looks at Blaine over his shoulder all the way to the floor, something in his eyes searching and contemplative.

Blaine frowns. He feels almost jealous, for some odd reason. It’s ridiculous -– Kurt and Tina are both his friends, of course they can dance together, even if Tina is obviously plotting something. The odd feeling passes soon, though, as he watches Kurt awkwardly try to follow Tina’s dance moves and laughing at something Tina says to him. He can only see glimpses of them between the other bodies moving to the beat and the flashes of the strobe lights, but Kurt seems to be smiling and having a good time, despite the initial surprise, and Blaine can feel his own mouth turning into a smile as well, his shoulders relaxing.

It’s hard not to smile when Kurt looks so happy.

Mike shifts closer to Blaine after a moment. “I hope you know that she’s going to interrogate him.”

Blaine looks away from Kurt and squints at Mike. “What do you mean, ‘interrogate him’?”

Mike stares at him, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “Oh my god. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

“Mike, you’re starting to develop the same habit as Tina in talking in a way no one can understand,” Blaine sighs, placing his and Kurt’s drinks on the bar so he can keep an eye on them. “Don’t realize what?”

Mike opens his mouth to respond, but before he has the chance to go any further Blaine’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He fishes it out, frowning down at the new text he has.

 **From Tina:**  
_hes seen u without gel??? even I havvent seen u wihout gel_

“What...” He looks up, searching the dance floor. “Is she seriously dancing and texting me at the same time?”

Mike looks over at his incredulous tone of voice, reading the text over his shoulder. “You’d be surprised to know what else she can do while texting someone at the same time,” he comments dryly.

Blaine wrinkles his nose, just as his phone buzzes again.

 **From Tina:**  
_hes a rly good dancer blaine!!!_

“Oh my god,” Blaine groans. “What is she doing? Why is she doing this?”

His relaxing night out is turning into something confusing, something he feels like he has no control over, with Kurt flirting with him and Tina doing god knows what for whatever purpose she has in mind. Everything is so confusing, and Blaine doesn’t know what’s going on, doesn’t know if he’s even ready for whatever might be going on. He pushes his phone back in his pocket, ignoring the third buzzing noise that comes from it, and grabs his drink, taking a long swig from it.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He has no idea what Kurt is doing. He just–-

“Can you watch our drinks?” he asks, placing his own half-empty glass on the bar next to Mike’s elbow.

Mike nods, a curious look in his eyes, and Blaine pushes himself away from bar. As soon as he reaches the dance floor the temperature of the room seems to skyrocket, sweaty bodies pushing against him and bright lights dancing in his eyes. He looks around, trying to see the familiar pattern of Kurt’s shirt or the bright red dress Tina is wearing tonight, but there are too many people moving in too many rhythms and in too many directions, his head feeling dizzy with it all. He shouldn’t have drunk half of his drink as fast as he did –- he has always been a bit of a lightweight, especially if he drinks too fast.

The music is loud and pounding, and Blaine pushes through the crowd, looking in every direction and murmuring apologies as he goes even though no one seems to care. He can’t see Kurt anywhere. He doesn’t even know why he suddenly wants to find Kurt so desperately; he just knows that he wants to stop Tina from interrogating him any further. He doesn’t like it when Tina gets involved in his relationships, and he doesn’t want Tina to say anything stupid, anything about what Blaine was like before everything that happened with Connor or how often Blaine finds himself just staring at Kurt, or how he feels so incredibly–-

The people dancing right next to him move in his direction, and Blaine stumbles backwards, trying to find his balance before he crashes into anyone in the tight space, but then there are suddenly strong arms around him, catching him and supporting him, and Blaine’s nose recognizes the familiar whiff of hairspray and warm skin through all the other scents in the air.

“Hey you,” Kurt’s laughing voice says in his ear, his chest against Blaine’s back. “I thought you said you didn’t want to get drunk?”

Blaine straightens himself, Kurt’s arms falling away from his waist, and for some reason his body instantly misses the connection, misses the touch. Blaine has never missed anyone as physically as he misses Kurt sometimes. He turns around, and there Kurt is, sweat beading on his forehead, his shirt a little wrinkled already, his smile so wide and happy.

He looks beautiful.

“Where’s Tina?” Blaine calls over the music, stepping closer so Kurt can hear him. The bass pounds through his whole body, making him feel like he’s vibrating again, halfway out of his own skin and not exactly aware of what he’s doing.

Kurt shrugs, his grin still in place. “She went to find Mike!”

The mass of people around them forces them even closer to each other, and there’s that unfamiliar glint in Kurt’s eyes again, drawing Blaine in.

“This is so much fun, Blaine!” Kurt yells, shimmying his shoulders to the beat of the music. “Come on, dance with me?”

Blaine swallows, glancing around the dance floor. Kurt tilts his head in question, still smiling, waiting for Blaine to make the first move, and god, Blaine just wants to kiss him. He doesn’t know why or how, but he just does –- and that’s what that odd feeling in his chest and stomach is all about, the one that has been there ever since he heard Kurt sing during their first session together with the kids, the feeling that has just intensified from everything that has happened tonight. He wants to lean over and kiss Kurt, he wants to tell Kurt everything, wants to believe in true love and romance and silly love songs again, wants to trust those feelings coursing through his heart and veins.

He wants to let himself fall in love with Kurt.

Suddenly it all makes sense. Everything he has been confused about makes sense, all those feelings he has tried to push away, all those songs that are playing in his head these days, all those laughs he and Kurt have shared on the fire escape, all those lingering glances. Tina’s mischievous grin, Mike’s earlier words, getting over Nathan so quickly -– it all makes sense.

He looks up, meeting Kurt’s eyes. Kurt raises his eyebrows at him, and there it is, the soft look in his eyes, asking and offering, waiting and willing.

Blaine steps closer and lifts his arms, twining them around Kurt’s neck slowly, giving Kurt the chance to move away if he wants to. But Kurt only stares at him, his body still moving slightly to the beat of the music, something heavy in his gaze. Blaine swallows again and shifts even closer, little by little, until their faces are mere inches apart and he can rest his arms on Kurt’s shoulders, starting to sway his hips to the music.

Kurt breathes out shakily and moves his own hands to Blaine’s waist, his fingers digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, burning and hesitant at the same time. Blaine takes a breath, trying to calm his heartbeat, and then smiles at Kurt, shows him that it’s okay, that he wants Kurt to keep his hands there, anchoring him. He feels like he might float away if Kurt stepped away from him or removed his grounding touch.

They find their rhythm easily, both of them guiding each other, legs brushing and skin burning where it meets the other’s skin. The lights flash above them, unfamiliar bodies moving right next to them, sometimes bumping them this way or that, but Blaine can’t focus on any of those things. All he can see is Kurt’s eyes staring into his and the soft smile on Kurt’s lips.

Somewhere in his pocket his phone buzzes again, but he doesn’t even notice it because at the same moment Kurt leans closer, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes, looking calm and happier than Blaine has ever seen him before. It would be so easy to close the small distance between them and kiss him.

“We don’t really dance like this in Kingleysia,” Kurt says, his voice barely audible over the music. His thumb is stroking over the curve of Blaine’s hip, slow but sure. “Not this... close.”

Blaine takes a shuddering breath, all of his senses full of Kurt, his hands trembling. “Oh?”

Kurt smiles, his eyes still closed. “Then again, I wouldn’t even be able to dance with another man like this in Kingleysia.” He suddenly blinks his eyes open, a frown appearing on his forehead. “I-is this okay here? I mean, is this–- we’re not going to-–”

“It’s okay, I promise.” Blaine moves closer, Kurt’s breath ghosting over his cheek. His hands slide down Kurt’s back, reassuring him, feeling the warmth of his body against his palms, feeling how his muscles relax at Blaine’s words. The song is slower now, more sensual, and Blaine has never felt this safe before. “Mike and Tina would never-– They would never take me to a nightclub where I can’t be myself,” he adds.

Kurt grins, his eyes shining. “I’ve been missing out on so many things with my princely duties,” he says lightly.

He moves his head so that his cheek is right against Blaine’s, his hands moving higher on Blaine’s waist, sending shivers up and down Blaine’s body. Blaine noses his hair, already a little damp with sweat. It’s so intimate, almost too intimate considering they’re just friends, no matter how much Blaine is suddenly aching to be more than that, to move his head back to its previous position and kiss Kurt, to bury his hands in Kurt’s hair and pull him closer until there’s nothing between them.

But as intimate as this is, as close as they are, they are still surrounded by too many people, unfamiliar people at that, and there is too much darkness broken by the multicolored lights around them. This just doesn’t feel like the right time and place to kiss Kurt. Kurt deserves more than that -– Kurt deserves romance and grand gestures and serenades, flowers and dates and sunlight. He deserves things Blaine isn’t so sure he’s ready to give. Not yet, at least.

Kurt’s hands are guiding the movements of Blaine’s hips, following the rhythm of the music, and Blaine pushes his thoughts away and just lets himself enjoy it, lets himself let go and just be here. He looks around the dance floor, a few people near them laughing together while they dance horribly out of beat, several couples dancing as close to each other as he and Kurt are. He can’t see Tina or Mike anywhere, not even when he and Kurt turn around in a full circle, so they must be at the bar –- or even in a bathroom or somewhere else making out. Tina becomes weirdly exhibitionistic when she’s drunk, but Mike has never seemed to mind it.

Besides, Blaine doesn’t really care where they are or what they’re doing. As long as Kurt stays this close to him.

Kurt starts humming along to the music, his mouth right next to Blaine’s ear. Blaine smiles, moving a little faster to the beat of the song. He doesn’t even know if it’s the same song anymore, or if they’ve been dancing for several songs already, all of it blending and blurring together. He feels warm and comfortable, Kurt’s heart beating close to his own and the silky material of his shirt slipping under his fingertips.

The push and pull of the crowd forces them to move to the left, and suddenly Blaine catches a glimpse of a familiar face on the other side of the room. He squints, trying to see through the lights and moving people, and–- it is Nathan, talking to someone Blaine doesn’t recognize near the entrance, making gestures with his hands that look like he’s saying his goodbyes for the night.

Huh. Sometimes New York is oddly small for such a big city.

Blaine blinks, trying to keep his focus on the way Kurt’s muscles shift and move against him. It feels strange to see Nathan again all of a sudden, in a place where he definitely didn’t expect to see him. The last time they saw each other was when they broke up, but this time there is no ache in Blaine’s chest, no longing or sadness or pain.

Nathan looks up from his conversation, as if he realizes he’s being watched, and their eyes meet across the room. Nathan’s expression shifts into surprise, the flashing lights illuminating his face for a moment. He stares at Blaine, but then he smiles, neutral and without a hint of longing, so different from Kurt’s smiles this evening.

Blaine smiles politely back at him, giving a brief nod in greeting.

Nathan nods back and then seems to notice who he’s dancing with, his smile turning into a grin as he raises both of his hands and gives Blaine a thumbs-up, laughing like he somehow saw this coming.

It’s an innocent gesture, a surprising act of support from an ex-boyfriend that Blaine isn’t really used to, but when the crowd moves again and Nathan disappears from view, Blaine can suddenly feel his breathe catching in his throat. It is a nice gesture, but at the same time it’s a reminder of the past, of everything Blaine is and has been, everything he managed to forget for a moment.

Something about the gesture sparks a memory; Connor standing in the doorway of their shared apartment after their final fight, his thumbs up and a sneer on his face, spitting out, “ _so good fucking luck with that, Blaine_ ” with such hate, such vehemence, and–-

Love isn’t easy. Love isn’t the way Blaine has always hoped it would be, it isn’t the stuff of fairytales and romantic comedies. Love is the one thing that makes him feel like a failure, that always comes back to kick him one more time, the one thing he can’t allow himself to believe in, if only to keep himself safe.

He thought it all made sense, that he had finally figured it all out for good. Except it all doesn’t make sense after all, not really. Kurt is still from Kingleysia, still from another world where he most likely has his future true love waiting for him, his own happy ending just waiting for his return, magical and amazing -– and Blaine is still the failure who can’t get his relationships to work no matter what he does. The one who always tries too hard or not enough, the one who either comes on too strong or not at all.

The one who’s always left behind.

He can’t do this again. He can’t put his heart on the line again. He promised himself that he wouldn’t do it, not after what happened with Connor. He doesn’t even know if Kurt feels the same way as he does; he can guess or assume or interpret the sudden flirting in any way he wants, but he still doesn’t know for sure, and Kurt’s friendship is too important for him to even try to find out the truth.

His shoulders must have tensed because Kurt’s hands are suddenly sliding from his waist to his back, holding him carefully, their dancing stuttering to an abrupt stop.

“Blaine?” Kurt asks, his voice worried and unsure.

“I–- I don’t feel too good,” Blaine croaks out. He pulls away, fighting against the urge to just keep holding on, to just let Kurt hold him and drive away his fears. He steps back too abruptly and someone bumps into him, making him stumble and stutter out another apology, the bright lights flashing in his eyes.

Kurt immediately takes his hand and starts pulling him away from the dance floor, to a quiet corner of the club, away from the loudest music and the pushing crowd. Blaine feels cold all of a sudden, his arms shivering when they break through the mesh of people.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s hands are on his shoulders, rubbing up and down, his eyes searching Blaine’s face. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I–- Can we leave?” Blaine asks, his hands trembling. He’s just so tired. So tired of trying and never succeeding. “I’m sorry, I know you were having fun and–- You can stay, I’m sure Tina and Mike are still around here somewhere, you can stay with them and–-”

“Hey, hey.” Kurt leans closer, framing Blaine’s face with his hands, brushing his thumbs over Blaine’s cheeks, and it feels so nice, so right -– except Blaine can’t let himself trust it, can’t let go. “We can leave, it’s okay,” Kurt says, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m getting a little tired myself, to be honest.”

“Okay.” Blaine takes a shuddering breath, feeling it barely fill his lungs. “O-okay.”

Kurt looks at him, his eyes so soft and caring. Why must he be so imperfectly perfect, so wonderful? It’s making Blaine’s heart hurt to see him right there and not allow himself to just fall and trust that Kurt will catch him.

“Should we tell Tina that we’re leaving?” Kurt asks, lowering his hands back to Blaine’s shoulders, his thumb still rubbing soothingly over his skin.

“No, I can-– I can text her, it’s okay.” Blaine scrubs his hands over his face. God, he’s such a mess. He’s so fucked up, and just earlier this evening he was thinking that he was fine and everything was good.

“Okay, come on then, we’re going.” Kurt takes his hand, and it’s both right and wrong and Blaine doesn’t know which instinct to trust the most.

Before he even realizes it they have their coats on and are pushing past the bouncer and through the doorway into the street, the fresh air feeling wonderful against his sweaty skin, the bass of the club still echoing quietly behind them. Everything starts to look clearer again, and Blaine breathes in the cool night air, the muffled sounds of the city around him, his lungs finally expanding.

Kurt leads him a little away from the club before he stops and turns to face Blaine, his expression still worried.

“Better?” he asks quietly, stroking his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles.

He’s so careful and concerned, so tender, and Blaine just wants to ask him to hold him and then later on tell him everything, tell him why he’s such a mess right now. But that would require opening up about things he hasn’t really told anyone before, and he’s just-– He’s so tired.

“Better,” he answers weakly and squeezes Kurt’s hand, wanting to keep holding on to that last connection.

Kurt smiles. “Good. Do you feel like walking, or should we get one of those... yellow carriage things?”

Blaine can’t help it; he laughs, ducking his head and feeling somehow even more lightheaded than he did before. “Cabs,” he says, “they’re called cabs, remember?”

Kurt shrugs. “Maybe I was just pretending not to remember it so I could make you smile,” he says teasingly.

Blaine looks up, his heart thudding painfully inside his chest. It would be so easy to fall, to let go of everything that’s holding him back. It would be both the easiest and the most difficult thing he has ever done, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready. If he ever will be.

Kurt smiles at him, soft and gentle, and squeezes his hand back. “So, cab or walking?”

Blaine breathes in, trying not to think about anything too difficult. “Let’s walk? My apartment’s not that far anyway.”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees. He squeezes Blaine’s hand again, hesitates for a moment, and then slowly lets go, searching Blaine’s face as if to makes sure he’s doing the right thing by giving him more space.

Blaine can feel the skin of his hand tingling, itching to reach out and grab Kurt’s hand again, but he just smiles and pushes his hands in his pockets instead.

They walk home in silence, both of them lost in thought, and when they finally reach the apartment Kurt immediately slips away into the bathroom. He says that he’s going to clean his face, but Blaine can see that he needs his space as well, his eyes unsure and worried, so he just smiles and nods, letting the door close between them.

Blaine moves around the apartment, drinking a glass of water to clear the last traces of alcohol from his body. He didn’t even drink that much, not even one full drink, but everything else about tonight has his body still buzzing and trembling like he’s drunk his own weight in alcohol.

It’s only when he’s opening up the sofa bed for Kurt that he remembers the text message he got on the dance floor, pulling his phone from his pocket and opening his messages. He has several unread texts, all of them from Tina, and one missed call, that one from Mike. He sits down on the edge of the bed and texts Mike back first, letting him know that he and Kurt got home safely, before opening Tina’s messages with some apprehension.

 **From Tina:**  
_u should see the way he lights up when he talks about u_

 **From Tina:**  
_i haven’t seen u smile like that since forever_

 **From Tina:**  
_blaine_  
_he makes u look so happy_  
_u should be that happy_

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. The last text is a picture, a blurry image of the club’s dance floor, and Blaine has to squint and swipe his fingers over the screen to zoom in to even see what it’s supposed to be about.

Right in the middle of the picture, partly obscured by other people and looking very red and yellow from the club’s lights, are him and Kurt, dancing so close to each other that it’s hard to see where one of them ends and the other begins, especially with how blurry the picture it. But it’s obviously them -– Blaine can recognize the shape of Kurt’s hair and the curve of his own shoulders, can see how they look like they’re completely lost in their own world. God, were they really dancing _that_ close to each other? His whole body remembers how it felt to be completely surrounded by Kurt, to just forget everything else and dance with him, to imagine for a moment what it would be like to have that forever.

He runs his hand through his hair again, frustration making his temples ache, and then taps at the reply button.

 **From Blaine:**  
_I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please stop getting involved in my relationships. I can figure things out on my own, okay?_

He doesn’t expect a reply, but before he has even closed his messages the phone buzzes in his hand.

 **From Tina:**  
_Sorry._  
_Just don’t let him slip away. He’s good for you, I can tell._

The words are so different from the earlier drunken messages that Blaine is still staring at them with his brows furrowed when Kurt steps out of the bathroom, already dressed in the soft t-shirt and pants he wears to bed.

“Everything alright?” he asks quietly, walking into the living room and stopping on the other side of the sofa bed.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, shakes his head and pushes his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, sorry, just... Tina being Tina, you know.”

Kurt smiles. “She was rather wild tonight, wasn’t she?”

Blaine laughs. “Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

Kurt’s smile widens a little, his eyes still searching Blaine’s face for something, as if he’s suddenly having trouble finding something he has seen there before. “The hairspray has apparently worn off,” he says awkwardly after a moment, gesturing at his hair, soft and limp over his forehead again.

“That’s what happens when you have to rely on hairspray instead of magic.” Blaine smiles and pushes himself up from the bed. “I hope you had fun?” he asks, suddenly worried that he just ruined Kurt night with his own personal breakdown.

“I did,” Kurt rushes to say, his eyes wide and earnest. “I did, I really did. I’m just... I hope I didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable,” he adds, looking away, nervous.

“No, Kurt–-” Blaine quickly walks around the bed and reaches out to touch Kurt’s shoulder, Kurt turning to look at him again at the touch. “You didn’t, honestly. You were great. I’m just...” He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “I guess I’m just a mess sometimes.”

Kurt smiles, a small twitch of his mouth, and god, Blaine still wants to kiss him. “That’s okay,” Kurt says, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re all a mess sometimes.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says quietly, pulling his hand away from Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m–- I’m going to go to bed now, so... Goodnight?”

Kurt hesitates for a moment and then pulls him into a quick hug, stroking his hand over Blaine’s back. “Goodnight, Blaine.”

Blaine breathes in, focusing on the warmth of Kurt’s body, hoping that it could drive away the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach -– and then forces himself to step away from the hug, smiling at Kurt before he turns around towards his own bedroom.

He needs time. He may be moving on, but he hasn't moved on yet, not completely.

He's reached the doorway, his hand already on the handle, when Kurt suddenly calls after him.

“Blaine?”

Blaine looks over his shoulder. Kurt is still standing next to the bed, now holding his brooch in his hand. “Yes?”

“I–- I meant what I said earlier,” Kurt says, his words careful, as if he’s trying to make them come across exactly the way he means them. He doesn’t take his eyes off of his brooch, turning it slowly over in his hands. “I know you will find your true love one day. I know you don’t believe in it, in my version of love, but I... I know you will still find it. Because you deserve to find it.”

“Your version of love hasn’t really worked out for me in the past,” Blaine replies, pushing the door open. “I... I appreciate the thought, though. I really do,” he adds, halting.

He steps inside his bedroom, starting to pull the door closed behind himself. He has almost closed it completely, the gap between the door and the frame barely visible, when he hears Kurt’s quiet voice from the living room.

“Maybe you’ve just been waiting for someone from another world then.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said I had a very specific plan for this fic? Well, the boys decided to completely ignore that plan. (Luckily in a good way. ;D)

He said it. He can’t believe he actually said it.

Kurt lies awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling and only catching a few hours of restless sleep, waking up with a start every time. Even when he does sleep, he dreams about being awake and going over the words he said to Blaine in his head, over and over again.

They weren’t planned, but Blaine’s voice had been so lost and full of longing that Kurt just had to say something, had to blurt out something that sounded even remotely hopeful, and those words were the first thing that popped into his head.

Except–-

To be completely honest, the words have been running around in his head for days already, always waiting at the back of his mouth, whispering against his tongue when Blaine’s face twists into that distant look of sadness. It always happens when Blaine looks at Tina and Mike for a moment too long, or even when he looks at random couples he happens to notice when they’re out walking, and he looks so resigned at those times that Kurt just wants to shout out his own feelings, to tell Blaine everything.

He wants to lean over and wipe that look away from Blaine’s face permanently with a well-placed kiss, wants to make him see that it’s not too late, that he’s not doomed to fail. That he still has a chance.

That’s why those words came out of his mouth last night. Kurt can read between the lines; years and years of feeling like the odd one out in Kingleysia, both because of his position as a prince and because of his sexuality, have taught him to watch and learn, to observe people and make the right interpretations. It’s not even very difficult to realize that the attitude towards love that Blaine shows to everyone is just a front to protect him from getting hurt again, to keep his heart safe. Kurt has noticed all the allusions and hints, has noticed the way Blaine unconsciously clenches his jaw whenever someone mentions the name Connor –- and god, just the thought of someone hurting Blaine so badly, so horribly that he would give up on love altogether, makes Kurt’s heart ache, makes him want to find this Connor or whoever and let him have a piece of his mind.

But more than that he wants to show Blaine that it’s still okay. It’s okay to have faith and hope for the best and believe in love again. It’s okay to love and be loved.

Because this, _this_ , is finally what the stories Kurt has read all through his life have told him about. This is what he has seen his friends and family find, this is what kept him hoping and wishing when he realized that he was different, something a prince should never be, something the majority of Kingleysia would never understand. This is his heart beating faster, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, his hands going sweaty whenever he looks at Blaine for a moment too long. This is giddy smiles and nervous hands and the desperate need to tell everyone how he feels, the urge to pull Blaine’s body against his own and never let him go.

It felt so right to be so close to Blaine at the club, to have his hands on Blaine’s waist and feel the warm puffs of his breath on his face. Everything about Blaine just feels right, as if he’s the missing puzzle piece Kurt has been looking for his whole life, the face he hasn’t managed to find in the crowd in Kingleysia. He doesn’t even care that they’re from two different worlds, he doesn’t care that he should be worrying about getting back instead of feeling like home in this world, he doesn’t care about the differences he and Blaine might have or that Blaine isn’t ready yet, still too scarred and terrified of love.

He doesn’t care about any of those things. He’s finally in love, after years and years of desperately waiting for it; why should he care about anything else?

The door to Blaine’s bedroom stays closed all night, the shadows shifting against the walls and the ceiling as Kurt lies awake, both dreading and waiting for the morning. He wonders if Blaine even heard the words, if he interpreted them the right way or just thought that Kurt was drunk on that half a drink he drank at the club. He dozes off right before the sunrise with the same thoughts still running through his head, and when he wakes up a while later the bedroom door is suddenly open, the room dark behind it. He can hear the quiet sounds of Blaine washing the dishes in the kitchen, and that familiar, domestic noise must have been what woke him up.

Kurt pushes the covers away with a small smile, blinking his eyes against the sunshine. His brooch is next to his pillow on the mattress, looking the same as ever, and Kurt moves it to the sofa table as he gets up, absent-mindedly noting that the golden bird is still cold against his hand.

“Blaine?” he calls out hesitantly.

“In the kitchen,” Blaine calls back. His voice sounds careful, measured. Nervous. He really did hear the words last night, then.

Kurt gets up and pads into the kitchen. Blaine is standing at the sink, his back to Kurt, slowly rinsing the dishes they couldn’t be bothered to wash last night. His shoulders are tense, and a part of Kurt regrets dumping some of his feelings on Blaine like that, especially when Blaine was obviously distraught about something last night when they left the club. But a bigger part, the part that wants to dance and sing with joy and shout his feelings from the rooftops, knows that he needs to let Blaine know at some point anyway. Keeping all these feelings inside is pointless –- they will spill over soon no matter what.

When Kurt was younger, he used to think love would happen instantly, just like it happens in the stories he read. He spent so many nights imagining that he would bump into someone, look into their eyes and just _know_ –- and perhaps he already knew something that first night when he fell on top of Blaine and saw the warmth in his eyes. It just took him some time to realize that Blaine really is the warmth he has been looking for. Blaine is sleepy smiles over cups of coffee in the mornings, enthusiastic singing during music therapy sessions, and embraces that make Kurt feel connected and safe and loved. He is frowns and tears that Kurt wants to erase completely, the curve of his shoulders and the shift of his muscles, long fingers strumming the strings of his guitar and soft eyes looking at Kurt with so many emotions that it would take a whole lifetime to recognize them all.

Blaine is the New York version of true love. Perfectly imperfect.

“I thought you might sleep longer,” Blaine says, still staring intently at the dishes, “so I don’t have any coffee or breakfast ready, or-–”

“It’s fine,” Kurt interrupts softly. He takes a careful step closer. “Did you sleep well?”

Blaine pauses and finally turns to look at Kurt. He has dark bags underneath his eyes, and his curls are an even bigger mess than Kurt has ever seen them before, as if he has been running his hands through them all night, making them stick up in every direction. He looks so conflicted, shoulders tense and hunched as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, that Kurt just wants to close to distance between them and hold him.

Then again, he always wants to hold Blaine. That’s nothing new.

“I didn’t really sleep that much,” Blaine admits, holding the dripping serving platter in his hands, rubbing his thumb over a spot of tomato sauce.

Kurt swallows. “Me neither,” he offers. Blaine’s mouth twitches with a sympathetic smile, and Kurt takes a deep breath, readying himself. “Look, Blaine, about last night-–”

A loud ringing noise interrupts him, making both of them startle. Blaine almost drops the plate he’s holding, and Kurt glances around the kitchen until he notices Blaine’s phone on the counter, buzzing against the surface to the rhythm of the ringing. Blaine moves towards the phone, water from the plate dripping down in rivulets and hitting his bare feet.

“That’s-– that’s my mom’s ringtone,” Blaine says over the noise. He looks at his wet, soapy hands, then back at the phone, and then at Kurt, his expression helpless. “Could you-–”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Kurt splutters, stepping towards the counter. “Do I just...”

“Just swipe your finger over the screen,” Blaine explains, “and then tap on the–- there should be a square that has the word ‘speaker’ on it–-”

Kurt does as he says, and the ringing cuts off.

“ _Blaine? Hello, dear!_ ”

Kurt steps back. So that’s what Blaine’s mother sounds like, at least over the phone. Kurt tries to hear some resemblance to Blaine in her voice, but it’s hard to tell anything with how the phone seems to distort voices and how his own heart is still beating loudly in his ears from the surprise.

“Hi, mom,” Blaine replies awkwardly, scratching the last bit of sauce from the plate with his thumb as he takes a deep breath. “I was just washing dishes, so you’re on speaker.”

“ _Oh, I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to interrupt_ ,” the soft female voice comes from the phone.

Blaine glances at Kurt, obviously hesitating. “You didn’t, mom. What’s up?”

Kurt points towards the living room with his thumb and backs away from the kitchen. Blaine nods at him, his mother already chatting about what she and Blaine’s father have been up to, something about business being busy and hiring a few new interns. Blaine’s apartment is small, so there’s really no way for Kurt to not hear what they’re talking about, even if he moves to the other room. He tries to focus on putting the bed away and going through his clothes to figure out what he’ll wear today, but he still hears snippets of the conversation, hears Blaine’s mom teasing Blaine and Blaine chuckling in reaction, his voice less guarded than it was earlier. Kurt can imagine the way he must be rolling his eyes, fond and amused.

Kurt smiles down at his clothes, running his hand over their fabric. Moments like these make him miss his own mom a little bit more than he usually does.

“Wait, mom, hold on-– you’re coming _here_?”

Blaine’s voice, suddenly louder and sharper, breaks Kurt out of his thoughts. He lifts his head and looks towards the kitchen. Blaine’s hands are in the sink, submerged in the water, but he’s staring at the phone in alarm.

“ _Well, your father has a business meeting, and you know what he’s like, Blaine –- I can’t let that man travel by himself, he would lose his luggage and go to the wrong hotel_ ,” Blaine’s mother is saying. “ _Probably to some hotel in New Jersey, actually... Anyway, I haven’t seen you since Christmas, so it’s about time I saw how you’re doing with my own eyes._ ”

“Mom,” Blaine starts, glancing towards Kurt and obviously noticing him watching the conversation. He pulls his hands out of the water, trying to shake them dry. “Mom, I’m really busy at work at the moment, you know. It’s not really a good time for you to come visit,” he tries, his voice pleading.

Kurt swallows. Blaine is an awful liar, even if he is good at hiding his feelings –- if Kurt can hear that he’s lying about his work, then his mother must hear it as well. He unconsciously takes a few careful steps towards the kitchen, knowing that because he’s staying with Blaine (and is in love with him, though Blaine doesn’t probably know that yet, not fully at least) they’re going to have to figure something out if Blaine’s parents are coming to visit him.

“ _Oh, don’t be like that, Blaine_ ,” Blaine’s mother says, clucking her tongue. “ _We’ll be staying at the hotel, and we’ll only be there for a few days_.”

“Mom–-”

“ _You’ll just have to have dinner with us one day, that’s all_ ,” she goes on, ignoring Blaine’s interruption. “ _And–- oh! Oh, Blaine, honey, you should introduce us to your boyfriend! It’s high time we met him!_ ”

Kurt freezes. Blaine is standing completely still, his hands the only part of him that’s moving, small nervous twitches at his sides, as if he doesn’t know whether to reach for the phone and disconnect the call with his wet hands or just keep going and hope for the best.

“ _You’ve been together for months already, haven’t you?_ ” Blaine’s mother continues, probably not even noticing the abrupt silence on Blaine’s side. “ _What was his name again... It began with an M, right? No, with an N...?_ ”

“Mom,” Blaine says, his voice small. Kurt instinctively takes another step closer to him.

“ _You didn’t even bring him with you when you came home for Christmas_ ,” she adds. “ _I was so looking forward to meeting him back then, so this would be the perfect time –- just a relaxed dinner with us, nothing too much, nothing stressful or formal, and-–_ ”

“Mom, look,” Blaine tries again, quickly wiping his hands on his sweatpants, leaving dark wet splotches on the gray fabric. His expression is turning frantic and worried, mouth tight and eyebrows flattening down from their triangular shape. “We aren’t-– I mean, he’s not...”

“ _What was his name, gosh, it’s right at the tip of my tongue..._ ”

“Mom, please-–” Blaine is wringing his hands, his voice getting higher, more desperate, and Kurt moves even closer, already reaching out to still Blaine’s hands.

“ _Blaine, honey, can you tell me his name, I can’t for the life of me–-_ ”

“His name is Kurt!” Blaine blurts out all of a sudden, loud and echoing.

Kurt stops mid-movement, staring at Blaine. Blaine claps a hand over his mouth in panic, his eyes wide with surprise and something else, something that looks a lot like fear, and when he slowly turns to look at Kurt, he looks like he’s ready to bolt out of the window. Kurt tries to ignore the way his own heart is suddenly beating faster, hammering against his ribcage and making him feel out of breath.

“ _Kurt?_ ” Blaine’s mom repeats, even though Blaine doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to her anymore, his eyes frantically searching Kurt’s face for... something, some kind of a reaction. Kurt really hopes his face is showing something good. “ _I could’ve sworn his name was something else..._ ” Blaine’s mom muses.

“Mom?” Blaine says. He lowers the hand from his face, his other hand reaching for the phone even though he’s still staring at Kurt. “I have to go now, I’ll call you back later.”

“ _Oh, I can e-mail you the flight details and everything else-–_ ”

“Bye, mom,” Blaine rushes out, his fingers finding the phone and tapping its screen, cutting her off before she gets the chance to finish her sentence.

The apartment goes eerily quiet, and Kurt stays still, waiting and hoping. Blaine is still staring at him, his hands trembling and his eyes darting this way and that, from Kurt’s eyes to his arms to his forehead to his mouth. Kurt swallows roughly against the dryness of his throat and then slowly takes a step closer to Blaine in the tiny kitchen, half-expecting Blaine to freeze or dart away.

Blaine only blinks a few times, seemingly coming out of his thoughts. He looks down at the floor and then crosses his arms over his chest, still trembling, looking so small, so different from the beaming man who makes a whole room full of nervous kids laugh and shine with happiness. It’s obvious that he’s waiting for Kurt to say something, for Kurt to make the first move.

“Blaine?” Kurt tries. “You said–- you told your mom that–-”

Blaine licks his lips. “I know.”

Kurt tilts his head and tries to meet Blaine’s eyes, tries to make sense of this sudden, unexpected situation. “Why?” he asks, keeping his voice careful, but even he himself can hear the worried strain in his voice. Love is always reciprocal, always mutual, never one-sided, that’s what Kurt has been taught his whole life -– because why else would people even fall in love, if their feelings couldn’t be answered, if they would be forced to suffer through them all alone? -– but this is not Kingleysia, this is New York, the rules and conventions are different here, and as sure as he was when he woke up, he suddenly needs to know that Blaine saying his name meant something.

Something more than Blaine just panicking and blurting out the name of the first person he saw.

“I–-” Blaine starts, his arms tightening around his body. “I don’t know, Kurt, I... My mom can be so–-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand, a quick movement before his arm moves back to his chest, as if he’s trying to keep himself together. “And I didn’t know what to tell her, about what happened with Nathan, and I just... I panicked.”

Kurt can feel a cold weight drop in the bottom of his stomach, like lead. “Oh,” he says, quiet and trying his hardest to keep the crushing pain out of his voice.

Blaine looks up, meeting Kurt’s eyes. He looks terrified, eyes blinking too fast and mouth opening and closing, and Kurt is just about to pick up the pieces of his heart off the floor and say something reassuring, something witty to hide away how he’s really feeling –- just like he has done for years in Kingleysia when people have patted him on the shoulder and told him that he will find it one day, just you wait, one day you’ll meet a pretty girl who’ll take your breath away -– when Blaine suddenly manages to keep his mouth open and get his words out.

“I panicked because I... I like you, Kurt,” he says, sudden determination shining through his fear. “I really do.”

Kurt’s mouth drops open.

“I mean...” Blaine’s mouth twitches with a small, nervous smile, and he suddenly looks a lot younger. “I _like you_ like you.”

The cold weight in Kurt’s stomach starts to warm up, melting and spreading over his whole body. “Blaine, what are you-–”

“I just had so much fun last night at the club with you,” Blaine says, a bit desperately, the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth as if he has been keeping them inside all night, too scared to answer Kurt’s unasked question, “and I know I was really weird and emotional when we left, but I just... I had so much fun and I felt so... safe, more than I have in god knows how long, and I like you, Kurt, I like you so much, and I stayed up all night turning those words you said over and over in my head, and-–”

Kurt stares at him. He was ready to wait, to wait for as long as it takes for Blaine to be ready; and then he was scared that he would have to wait forever because Blaine would never look at him that way, would never want to be more than this –- but now Blaine is looking at him, still terrified and so, so nervous but still tentatively putting his heart out there, holding it in his hands and asking if Kurt wants to carry it with him.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Kurt manages to breathe out.

Blaine looks down, his hands twitching. “I... I am?” It comes out more like a question than an answer, Blaine’s voice going quiet. “I’ve been having these feelings about you, for weeks already, and last night–- Last night I realized what they were all about, and I panicked, but then you said that and–- Did you mean it? Were you talking about yourself, when you said that thing about waiting for someone from another world?”

He looks up again, eyes shining and wobbling, nervous and unsure, ready to pull back.

“I did,” Kurt says. “I was. I mean, I am.”

Blaine’s smile widens, radiant and happy, and oh, this is what his father and his friends were always talking about in Kingleysia, about seeing hearts in each other’s eyes. Kurt can suddenly see the hearts and warmth and -– dare he say it –- love in Blaine’s eyes, like they’ve been there all along and he just hasn’t allowed himself to see them before, scared about what it would mean.

Blaine lets out a soft laugh, something wet shining in his eyes. “I know I’m a mess and I’m... My track-record with things like this hasn’t exactly been that great.” He lifts one hand to rub at his eyes. “I’m still scared and nervous, Kurt. You have to know that.”

Kurt fidgets, suddenly noticing that he has been nervously running his fingertips over the back of his other hand for a while already. “Of me?”

Blaine lowers his hand slowly, looking at Kurt. “No. No, never of you, Kurt.” He hesitates and then moves away from the kitchen counter, taking a step towards Kurt. Kurt’s breath catches in his throat. “I’m not afraid of you, but I’m afraid of... this.” He gestures between them. “Afraid of being like that again, letting go and letting myself fall. I’ve already been there when it all fell apart, quite spectacularly, I might add,” he rolls his eyes before sobering again, the touch of bitterness in his voice vanishing, “and I’m scared that I’ll just make the same mistakes again.”

He’s standing so close, biting his lip and staring at Kurt, and Kurt just has to reach out with his hands, carefully rest them over Blaine’s trembling ones. The touch sends a shiver up Kurt’s arms, a warm thrill of knowing that this really means something more than just the casual touch between friends, and Blaine’s hands still under his own, gripping back tightly.

“Blaine,” he chokes out, blinking his eyes, “this is all very new to me as well, trust me. I’ve never really been anyone’s boyfriend. I’ve never even had the chance or the possibility to feel like this.” He squeezes Blaine’s hands, and Blaine squeezes back, letting out another breathless laugh. “And maybe...” Kurt hesitates. “And maybe one day you’ll be ready to tell me what happened to make you so nervous. What happened with Connor.”

Blaine’s eyes flicker, but he swallows and keeps his gaze on Kurt.

“So it’s okay,” Kurt goes on, shrugging. “It’s okay to be nervous and scared. I am too. We can take this slowly. We can take our time. Right?”

It’s Blaine’s time to hesitate, and he looks away, the worried look back in his eyes. “What about Kingleysia?” he asks quietly.

Kurt frowns. “What about it?”

“Aren’t you going back there soon?”

“Oh.” Kurt blinks. He had completely forgotten about that. That’s odd. People don’t usually forget their homes, do they? “The brooch has been cold ever since that first day,” he says, “so I haven’t really heard anything new from my dad or Rachel.” He leans forward, gently nudging Blaine’s shoulder with his own. “I’m still here, Blaine. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. We can cross that bridge once my dad contacts me. You know, talk about what’s going on with us by then and so on.”

Blaine takes a deep breath and lifts his head. He still looks worried, but the determination is there as well, the one that Kurt hasn’t really seen before this day. “Okay. That sounds... Okay.”

Kurt bites his lip. “I really want to hug you right now. Would that be too much?”

Blaine laughs and immediately shakes his head, already pulling Kurt closer. Kurt lets go of his hands and wraps his arms around his shoulders instead, tugging Blaine close to his body. Blaine holds him back so carefully, so tenderly, as if he’s afraid to have this, but Kurt lets himself cling to Blaine, smiling into his morning-soft hair and running his hands slowly up and down the planes of his back.

He’s in love. He’s in love, and even if Blaine isn’t quite there yet, he’s getting there. Kurt could sing or dance from joy –- if he was in Kingleysia, he would already be running down the streets, laughing and shaking the hands of strangers, coming up with odes to describe the color of Blaine’s eyes –- but _this_. This is more than enough as well. For someone who feared he would never have this, would have to dream about finding it for his whole life, this is better than anything he could have imagined.

Blaine trails one of his fingers down Kurt’s back, and the touch makes Kurt shiver in the most delicious way. Blaine is warm in his arms, solid and real, and for some reason he smells like... Like home.

“I can’t believe I told my mom before I told you,” Blaine murmurs against his shoulder.

Kurt giggles in surprise. “So you were going to tell me before she called?”

“I was.” Blaine shifts a little, leaning back until he can look into Kurt’s eyes but still keeping his arms around him. “Or at least I was going to tell you something. I had to, after everything that happened last night.”

Kurt lifts his hand to brush a few curls away from Blaine’s forehead, realizing too late that the intimate touch could be too much, too forward. But Blaine’s eyes flutter closed at the touch, his lips turning into a soft smile, and god, Kurt is starting to understand why exactly Blaine is so scared. If he’s this much in, this open and willing to be touched even when they’re taking things slow... Blaine feels things so strongly, even when he’s trying not to, and Kurt knows how strongly people like that can feel pain and sadness as well.

“What changed your mind?” he asks quietly.

Blaine blinks his eyes open, the morning sunlight catching on his eyelashes. “You.” He’s still smiling.

Kurt smiles back, feeling it crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Honestly, Blaine. That was cheesy even in my standards.”

“No, I mean, what you said.” Blaine looks up and squints his eyes, considering his words. “I think I always felt like you being from another world was somehow an obstacle. I used it as a reason why I couldn’t feel anything for you, why the whole idea was just not plausible. Why nothing could ever happen.”

Kurt tilts his head. “But...?”

“But then you said those words last night, after that whole rollercoaster of a night,” Blaine goes on, his thumb moving back and forth over Kurt’s hip, almost absent-mindedly, as if he’s not even aware of doing it, “and I spent the whole night thinking about them, and I realized that you’d–- You had never seen it as an obstacle. You saw it as a possibility.”

Kurt feels a pressure behind his eyes, a sudden tender ache that always comes before tears.

“And I thought that maybe I should try to see it like that as well,” Blaine says. He meets Kurt’s eyes, mouth curving in a smile. “Give it a chance. Because I can’t spend my whole life just waiting.”

Kurt lets out a laugh, letting go of Blaine with one of his hands so he can scrub it over his eyes. He knows what it feels like, to be so scared and to be always waiting. “God, who are you and what have you done to Blaine Anderson?” he chokes out.

Blaine laughs as well, resting his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder. “More like what have you done to me, Mr. True Love Conquers All.”

Kurt clings to Blaine’s shoulders, still laughing. God, he’s so happy. He doesn’t think he has ever been this happy.

“So since we’re taking this slowly,” he says after a while, changing the subject, “do you want to call your mom back and tell her the truth?”

Blaine freezes, and then he groans, pulling away from Kurt and running his hands through his hair. “Oh my god. My mom. This is such a mess.” He drags his hands down to cover his eyes and peeks through his fingers at Kurt. “You don’t know my mom, Kurt. She and my dad have this perfect marriage, the kind you must have tons of in Kingleysia -- they were high school sweethearts and are still completely in love, and I used to look up to them when I was a kid, hoping that I would have something like that as well, and...” He trails off, biting his lip.

“So?” Kurt asks after a moment when it’s obvious that Blaine’s not going to continue without some prompting and will just keep pacing the small kitchen area instead. “How does that have anything to do with this?”

“It does, because they also...” Blaine pauses in his pacing, lifting his hands behind his head, and Kurt tries his best not to get distracted by his arms. “Because they also really want their kids to find happiness like that as well. And since my brother is what he is, with basically no interest in relationships whatsoever, they have sort of... put all of their hopes and wishes on me.”

“Still not understanding,” Kurt says slowly, frowning. That’s what almost all parents are like in Kingleysia, and it doesn’t really affect anything in any negative way. Mostly it just means that they’re incredibly supportive of their children’s love lives and will throw a big party for the wedding.

“They used to be so over-invested in my relationships,” Blaine explains, “and they... They expected me and Connor to be the real thing, you know, and after that fell apart and I didn’t date anyone for a long time, they were really worried about me, as if having a relationship is the only thing that can make me truly happy, and-–”

“–-and if you told them that you and Nathan broke up and you’re actually taking things slowly with a guy who’s staying at your apartment, someone they’ve never even heard of–-” Kurt continues, starting to connect the dots, remembering everything he knows about the New York kind of love. He also just really likes saying that he and Blaine are taking things slowly. It makes everything sound so much more official, like a label he can be proud of. Like a relationship, at last.

“–- I would never hear the end of it,” Blaine finishes for him. He pulls his hands away from his hair and puffs out his cheeks. “You think Tina can be exhausting? Wait till you meet my parents.”

Kurt grins sheepishly, his mind suddenly assaulted with images of what Blaine’s parents might look like. He tries to imagine a woman with Blaine’s eyes and Blaine’s curls, the same softness on her face that Blaine has –- but he can’t. It’s impossible. He can’t imagine anyone else with Blaine’s features, especially not a woman, not when Blaine is the first one who has ever made him feel like this, made him feel glad about blushing his way through all those books he could find about sex and attraction in the castle’s library.

All the things about Blaine that he finds physically attractive are masculine things: the muscles in his arms and the lines of his upper body, the small stubble he has on his chin in the mornings and the flatness of his chest, his strong thighs and the coarse hairs on his skin, even the smell of his body –- and oh, that’s a pleasant memory of their previous hug –- they’re all things Kurt associates with men, and he’s... He’s gay, okay. And he’s finally in a place where he is allowed to act on it, where he is allowed to look at men this way. He’s in love with a gorgeous man of his dreams, and honestly, they just basically confessed their feelings to one another, what else is supposed to be going through his mind right now?

Blaine looks at Kurt with a sudden seriousness in his eyes, seemingly understanding the silence as something else than not-so-innocent daydreams.

“I’m not ashamed of you, you know,” Blaine says slowly, moving closer again. Kurt blinks his eyes and ignores his daydreams in favor of the actual real-life Blaine in front of him. “It’s not about you, or us taking things slow, or-–” Blaine sighs. “I just think it would be easier to tell everything to my parents face to face, instead of having them fuss over me on the phone,” he finishes, the expression on his face looking like he’s expecting Kurt to tell him he’s being stupid.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Kurt manages to squeak out. He had no idea his voice could get that much higher, but apparently Blaine Anderson being so painstakingly earnest can do that. “And I wasn’t worried about you being ashamed of me or anything, trust me. You’ve made it very clear that you’re... What was that line in that thing we watched on the television the other night?”

Blaine scrunches his nose. Kurt thinks he looks adorable. “Um... You mean ‘out and proud and gay’?”

“Yes!” Kurt points at him, and Blaine’s face melts into a grin. “So yes, not worried. Just thinking about something else and... distracted by it.”

Blaine furrows his brows in confusion. “Okay?”

“Something that... would not constitute as taking things slowly,” Kurt adds, feeling the blush on his cheeks. He glances at Blaine’s arms and chest meaningfully.

“Oh.” Blaine’s eyes widen in realization. “Oh! You’re-– That’s... Okay. Wow.”

Kurt cringes. “Sorry. It’s just... I couldn’t really talk about things like this to anyone at Kingleysia. Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t even think about them, and–-”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Blaine interrupts him, his face laughing. “I mean, I’m not ready for anything like that, it’s definitely not taking things slowly or anything, but it’s... It’s okay.” He reaches out and squeezes Kurt’s hand. “It’s flattering, Kurt. And it’s not like I’m blind either.”

Kurt does a double-take. “Me? You think about me like... Like that?”

Blaine smiles, sweeping his thumb over Kurt’s knuckles. “Kurt. Of course I do. You’re gorgeous, both on the inside and on the outside.”

Kurt can feel his blush getting deeper. “Oh. Thank... Thank you.”

Blaine just keeps smiling at him, and Kurt doesn’t think he has ever seen Blaine smile like this before, like he’s looking at the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“I should go say hi to the birds,” he says eventually, gesturing towards the fire escape with his free hand. He needs a moment, a few minutes away from the intensity of his feelings and the way his heart starts doing cartwheels when he looks at Blaine. The fresh air would probably make this all seem even more real than it does right now, less like a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from.

“Sure. I can make some coffee.” Blaine squeezes his hand one last time, still smiling easily. He seems to consider something for a second, and then he suddenly leans forward, brushing his lips over Kurt’s cheek before stepping back and letting go of his hand. “Say hi to the birds from me?” he says, looking both shy and proud of himself at the same time.

Kurt touches his cheek in wonder, imagining he can still feel the warmth of Blaine’s lips on it. It was just a fleeting touch, something most people would probably call casual, but to him it means so much more.

“O-okay,” he breathes out, overwhelmed.

There are no birds on the fire escape when he climbs through the window, but he can notice some flying over the sky in the distance when he sits down on the steps. The morning air is chilly against his heated cheeks, and his whole body feels tingly, as if he could burst any second, could jump in the air and grow wings, soar up into the sky with happiness. He can’t stop touching his cheek, the smile on his face widening with each brush of his fingers over the skin that Blaine kissed.

He sits there for a long while, just grinning like an idiot and listening to Blaine humming in the kitchen. He whistles out a short tune himself as well, trying to get the birds to come closer. They don’t seem interested in his company today –- one of the nearby pigeons does fly towards him but then turns around, probably noticing something more interesting in the other direction.

That’s fine. Kurt is so distracted that he would have probably lost the whistling competition with a smile on his face anyway. He closes his eyes against the sunshine, letting the city wash over him and letting himself just bask in this happiness.

“Kurt? The coffee’s ready,” Blaine’s voice calls from the apartment.

Kurt blinks his eyes open and smiles, feeling light and warm despite the chill in the air. He looks around the city one last time, taking in the tall buildings and the sounds of life, breathing in the air that has started to smell familiar to him.

“Coming,” he calls back and pushes himself up from the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. I'm so sorry that this has taken so long! Almost as if to make up for such a long time between updates, this chapter is extra long, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos -- they make my day. ♥

Almost a week later Kurt sits at the kitchen table, watching as Blaine hums along to the radio and pours coffee into two mugs. Blaine’s parents arrived in the city this morning, and Blaine is supposed to have lunch with them in a few hours, come clean and tell them everything. Or, well, almost everything. They both decided that it was probably better to leave out everything about Kingleysia and Kurt being a prince.

Even though Blaine is humming, something he has started to do more and more recently, Kurt can tell that he’s nervous. He keeps checking things –- if he turned the stove off, if he put the eggs back where they’re supposed to be, if Kurt’s toast is crunchy enough -– and even the way he moves, hips swaying to the beat of the song playing on the radio, seems jittery, anxious. Not that Kurt blames him. He feels a little nervous himself as well, playing with his toast in a way that would’ve made Carole tut at him back in Kingleysia.

He can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a chance to meet Blaine’s parents today. Maybe have dinner with them, observe all the gestures and facial expressions Blaine has inherited from them, and see the way they would look at him and Blaine together. It would seem like such a huge step, like too much, considering they’ve only been taking things slow for a week and haven’t even gone any further than long hugs and kisses on the cheek. Blaine hasn’t said anything about Kurt meeting his parents, and Kurt hasn’t dared to ask.

But he can’t help but wonder anyway.

It feels as if the whole week has gone by in a blur. Blaine’s had work every single day, several sessions per day, most of them something he can’t include Kurt in –- he apologized for it profusely, even though Kurt tried to tell him that it’s not that big a deal, that of course it’s okay –- so Kurt himself has wandered around the neighborhood on his own, taking in every detail he might have missed before. The old homeless man who smiles incredibly brightly even though his eyes are so very tired; the coffee shop that makes the whole corner smell like freshly baked cinnamon buns in the mornings; the dog walker who always seems to be out at the same time as Kurt is, four tiny dogs pulling at their leashes, noses turned in Kurt’s direction; the lonely young girl who is always standing in front of the building next to Blaine’s, as if she’s waiting for someone to come home. Kurt does like the details of this city. The melancholy and sad ones as well.

He even went out with Tina a few times, shrugging his shoulders when she asked him how Blaine’s doing. She must have still noticed something in his eyes or in the curve of his lips. Kurt can’t seem to stop smiling when he thinks about Blaine, and Tina has started to grin at him in a secretive, pleased way every time Blaine comes up in their conversation. Which is surprisingly often. Kurt couldn’t talk about boys in Kingleysia, not like he can in here, and Tina doesn’t judge him, just winks at him in a way that’s probably meant to be subtle but really isn’t.

He missed Blaine during the week, though. A lot. He saw so many things he wanted to share with Blaine, and for the first time since he came here he wished he had a phone as well, could send pictures and messages to Blaine, just like Blaine had explained to him one evening. He wants to do more things with Blaine, things he hasn’t even dared to dream about doing before, things that are making him realize how terribly sheltered and lonely his life in Kingleysia has been. He wants to kiss Blaine on the lips, on every inch of his skin; wants to sleep with him in the same bed, wants to push his hands underneath Blaine’s clothes and explore his skin –- and sometimes the way Blaine looks at him, dark and intense, makes him feel like Blaine wants it all as well.

But neither of them has pushed, especially not when Blaine has stumbled in looking like he’s falling asleep on his feet every evening, the weight of his guitar pulling his shoulders down. He explained that he’s taken on a few new clients, people with serious issues and in need of a lot of therapy, and Kurt can see the tiredness in the slope of his back. But Blaine looks determined and excited as well, happy that he’s trying his best to help these people, and Kurt can feel his own heart skip a beat every time Blaine closes the door behind himself and lifts his head, his smile something Kurt wouldn’t mind seeing every day for the rest of his life.

Just a little while ago that thought scared him, but now it just... doesn’t.

Blaine’s face always brightens up like never before whenever he sees Kurt, his hands immediately reaching out for him. It’s exhilarating to be the reason for Blaine’s smile. To have dinner with him in the evenings with their feet bumping together under the small kitchen table, to kiss his cheek goodnight and hold him close for a few minutes longer before they part for their own beds with shy, lingering glances, like their bodies are gravitating towards each other and they have to forcefully pull them apart. Kurt wants more, is pretty sure Blaine wants more as well, but this... This is still more than he expected.

He’s soaking it all up, even these moments when he can tell something’s bothering Blaine.

“You okay?” he asks, finally putting his toast down before he starts shredding it to pieces. Somewhere in Kingleysia Carole must sigh in relief.

Blaine hums the last line of the song on the radio and then turns around, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

“I’m nervous, to be honest,” he admits, surprisingly easily, making Kurt blink. Blaine places one of the mugs in front of Kurt and gives a stilted smile. “They’re going to be so upset that I wasn’t honest with them, and I just... I don’t want them to make a big fuss about it, you know? They worry too much about me sometimes.”

Kurt shrugs. “Isn’t that what parents do, though? Make a big fuss and worry too much?”

Blaine’s wrinkles his nose. “Well, we’ll see. Will you be alright for a few hours?” he changes the subject, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Don’t worry about me, silly.” Kurt gestures towards the couch, where all of things are. “I was thinking of maybe sketching something?” he says, still feeling a little uncomfortable talking to other people about his passion for clothes. Nobody has really cared about it before. “Tina showed me some really great fabrics yesterday, some of them things I’ve never even seen in Kingleysia, and I sort of want to see if I can come up with something for the samples she let me have.”

“She gave you fabric samples?” Blaine grins. “She’s totally trying to steal you away from me. I knew it,” he finishes in sing-song, pointing at Kurt.

Kurt snorts and rolls his eyes. “Or maybe she’s just happy to have someone to talk fabrics and clothes with? Someone who doesn’t want to turn every fabric into a bowtie?”

“Oh, New York has made you sassy,” Blaine laughs, clutching his chest in mock offense. A ringing noise comes from the bedroom, and Blaine immediately drops his hand with a sigh, placing his mug back on the table. “That’s my mom, probably checking that I know where we’re meeting. As if she hasn’t already emailed and texted me about it five times.” He pushes himself up from the chair with an eye roll of his own. “I’ll be right back.”

As he walks past Kurt he leans in to drop a quick kiss on his forehead, a sweet, tender brush of his lips, and –- oh, _oh_ , that’s new. That’s something different. Something almost... domestic. Kurt blinks after Blaine as he goes, fingers curled tightly around his mug, resisting the sudden urge to squeal and kick his feet in happiness.

 

\---

 

A few hours later Kurt is sitting on the familiar couch, his feet tucked in next to him as he adds some shadowing to the sketches he’s working on. He bites his lip in concentration as he glances at the magazine spread out on the sofa table for reference, making the dark patches even darker. Blaine has been gone for some time already, leaving with another kiss on Kurt’s cheek and a hesitant smile. The building hums quietly around him, one of Blaine’s neighbors obviously cleaning their apartment judging from the noises Kurt keeps hearing, the pipes creaking and groaning above him.

The sketches started out as a way to just pass the time in New York when Blaine was at work, to find inspiration for new clothes he could design and wear once he got back to Kingleysia. But these days he wants to draw something new almost every day –- needs to do it, even, or he’ll feel like something is missing. Sometimes he stays awake after Blaine has gone to bed already, drawing lines in the faint light coming in from the living room window, making the shadows too dark and his lines starker.

He used to design clothes in Kingleysia as well, but in New York he does it a lot more and a lot more often. Suddenly it seems like he’s bursting with energy and inspiration, whereas before it was just something he did to have nice, original clothes to wear. Here he likes going through the magazines Blaine keeps bringing him and finding details that inspire him, likes the soft sound of his pencil against the paper, likes to see his thoughts and ideas take form on the white surface. It seems so much more than it did before.

Somehow it feels like he’s doing something right whenever he’s sketching. It feels a lot more right than any of the official meetings he attended in Kingleysia in any case.

“That coat looks gorgeous,” Blaine’s voice suddenly says next to him, quiet and reverent.

Kurt startles, nearly throwing his pencil at Blaine, his heart jumping to his throat. Blaine takes a step back, hands raised in a calming gesture, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Kurt huffs out a breath, lowering his pencil and holding his hand over his heart. “God, you scared me.” He leans back against the couch, taking his sketchpad with him and trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. “I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“Sorry,” Blaine offers and carefully sits down on the couch next to him, dropping his messenger bag on the floor. He’s still wearing his light blazer, a pair of gloves sticking out from its pocket. “You looked like you were lost in your thoughts, so I tried not to disturb you. But then I saw that coat you were drawing and...” His mouth twitches with a smile. “I just wanted to tell you that I liked it. A lot.”

Kurt pulls the sketchpad away from his chest and glances down at it. The coat is actually one of his own favorites –- it has a few elements of Kingleysian fashion, but it still looks like something people in New York could wear as well, sleek and interesting.

“You’re really good at that, you know,” Blaine adds, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“Thank you,” Kurt says softly. He doesn’t usually let people see his drawings. Not even Rachel has seen them, and she’s never even asked. He closes the sketchpad with a frown and puts it on the table, feeling a strange, warm feeling in his chest. “How was lunch with your parents? You’re home earlier than I expected.”

Blaine tilts his head back against the backrest, wrinkling his nose at the ceiling. “Mom and dad had a business meeting this afternoon, so they were forced to leave early.” He shrugs. “But it was okay. I told them what’s going on, and they did fuss over me and demanded to know why I hadn’t told them everything right away and got appropriately upset, but...” He rolls his head to look at Kurt. “It was okay. Better than I was afraid of.”

Kurt nods, hesitating a moment before he reaches out and takes Blaine’s hand. Blaine immediately slots their fingers together, the line of his mouth softening into a smile.

“What exactly did you tell them?” Kurt asks.

“That Nathan and I broke up a while ago because we both felt that the relationship just wasn’t going anywhere,” Blaine says, his words sounding rehearsed; but then the smile on his face turns fonder, more genuine, “and that I’m now dating a friend of mine who’s staying at my place while he’s in town.”

Kurt smiles back at him, squeezing his hand. _Dating_. They’re dating. He so wants to squeal right now, but he settles for saying, “Sounds about right,” his voice a bit breathless.

“There is one thing though.” Blaine looks away, clearing his throat, his free hand scratching the fabric of his jeans. “They sort of... Um. Myparentswanttomeetyou,” he says very quickly, the words blending in together.

“What?” Kurt blinks.

“They want to meet you,” Blaine repeats, cringing as he turns to look at Kurt. “I tried telling them that we haven’t been dating that long and that meeting my parents would be too big a step, but they still said to invite you to have dinner with us tonight. If you want to come.” His eyes are wide, nervous and perhaps even a bit scared. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he adds in a rush.

Kurt swallows, his palms starting to sweat. Turns out his daydream from this morning could turn into reality. He isn’t quite sure if he should be scared or excited.

“Do you want me to come?” he asks.

Blaine sighs and lets go of Kurt’s hand, running both of his hands through his hair in frustration, messing up his gel. Kurt flexes his fingers, suddenly so empty, and pulls his hand back, resting it in his lap.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Blaine says eventually, dragging his hands down his face. His voice is careful, like he’s trying so hard to say the right thing for Kurt. “I know we’ve only been together for a week, so...” He looks away, shrugging his shoulders. “You don’t have to come. I can just tell them that you had other plans tonight, or–-”

Kurt reaches for his hand again, hoping he’s interpreting things correctly. “Blaine.”

Blaine turns to look at him, his hand limp and sweaty in Kurt’s grip.

“Do you want me to come?” Kurt asks again, keeping his voice even, his facial expression carefully neutral. “No explanations or excuses, just... Do you want me to be there?”

Blaine searches his face for a long moment, the nervousness slowly fading away from his eyes, until he breathes out, shoulders relaxing and hand squeezing Kurt’s. “I want you to be there,” he says, as if he’s revealing a secret. “I know it’s way too soon, and my parents can definitely be a handful, but I–- I do want you to come.”

Kurt smiles. “Then I will.”

“But you don’t have to if you think it’s too much,” Blaine argues feebly.

“No, I think it’ll be fun,” Kurt says, grinning. “Your parents sound very interesting. Maybe I can get them to tell me embarrassing stories from your childhood.”

Blaine lets out a breathless laugh, ducking his head. Kurt smiles and then leans forward, kisses Blaine’s forehead in an answer to the kiss Blaine gave him this morning. Blaine’s hair smells like raspberries, and he lets his lips linger there for a moment longer. When he finally pulls back, Blaine lifts his head at the same time, and Kurt could swear that his eyes flick to his mouth for a quick second.

They are sitting so close that it would be so easy to close the distance between them, but Kurt just leans back, absent-mindedly licking his lips and drawing Blaine’s gaze back to them. Blaine blinks his eyes and then clears his throat, giving a sheepish smile.

“Thank you,” he says awkwardly.

“For what?” Kurt asks and tilts his head. He has to resist the urge to lick his lips again, just to have Blaine staring at him in that way that makes something heated and excited pool in Kurt’s stomach.

Blaine shrugs. “For wanting to meet my parents.” He grins, a small, boyish smile that makes him look ten years younger. “I apologize in advance for anything they might say.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to hearing _everything_ they might say,” Kurt replies, nodding with his eyes wide open.

Blaine laughs again.

 

\---

 

The restaurant Blaine’s parents have picked is definitely different from all the small coffee shops and cozy diners Blaine has shown to Kurt before. It’s not too fancy, not a place where you can’t get in unless you’re wearing a tux, but there are still a few chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the waiters are wearing impeccable suits with sharp collars and shining cufflinks. The quiet murmur of the other patrons is interspersed with the sound of someone playing the piano in the corner of the restaurant, and everywhere Kurt looks there are people who look like they have a lot of money and power. Everything from their clothes to the way they sit at the tables screams wealth in a way that he’s more than familiar with from all the official dinners he’s attended as a prince.

Kurt gapes at the view, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his shirt –- he made it himself a few weeks ago, with some help from Tina who could probably tell he was aching to sew something when she found him caressing bolts of fabric in a store they were visiting. He was fine about this whole thing an hour ago, excited even; distracted by choosing the perfect outfit for meeting Blaine’s parents and trying to stop his hair from flopping down over his forehead. But now that they’re actually here, in a restaurant that reminds Kurt eerily of the dining hall in his dad’s castle, with Blaine craning his neck next to him to find his parents in the crowd, wringing his hands in nervousness, Kurt can feel his own palms starting to sweat as well. He can hear the deafening _thump th-thump_ of his heart in his ears, and has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

He’s meeting Blaine’s parents. His _parents_! Maybe he should’ve checked his reflection one more time in the mirror before they left the apartment. Or shake his brooch in a desperate attempt to contact Rachel so he could scream at her and get her to give him an encouraging pep talk, as bad as she is at those sometimes. He is just about to grab Blaine’s hand and ask him if he’s wearing appropriate clothes for a place like this, when Blaine suddenly freezes next to him.

“Found them,” he explains, pointing towards a mostly secluded corner at the back of the restaurant.

Kurt stands on his toes and looks in the right direction. It takes him a while, with all the people around them, but eventually he notices a woman and a man sitting in a table for four, obviously waiting for the other members of their party. The similarities to Blaine are striking. The woman is laughing, her eyes crinkling and squinting in the same way Blaine’s do when he’s happy, and the man’s hair is the exact same shade as Blaine’s, his jawline just as strong, his eyebrows just as thick.

Kurt swallows again. Too late to check if his hair is actually behaving.

Blaine turns to face Kurt, straightening his blazer. “So? How do I look?” he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Kurt blinks and then looks Blaine up and down, from his gelled hair and dark blue bowtie to the smart dark jeans he’s wearing. “Handsome,” Kurt answers automatically, grinning when Blaine drops his head with a small laugh. “What about me?”

Blaine lifts his head, his smile softening. “You look amazing, Kurt. That shirt is gorgeous.”

“Oh.” Kurt is caught between preening and looking away with an embarrassed smile, smoothing his hands down his shirt. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Blaine smiles at him and then takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he reaches out for Kurt’s hand. “Shall we?”

“Time to face the music?” Kurt asks and takes Blaine’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Time to face the music,” Blaine repeats with a nod.

He starts leading them towards the right table, sidestepping a few waiters. Kurt follows, going through his mental checklist one more time. His hair should look good, thanks to all the product he put in it; he’s wearing nice clothes and his skin has been fairing the New York City air surprisingly well –- and if there’s a stubborn flush on his cheeks, well, he can always blame the warm air in the restaurant. He has a pretty good idea on how he can dodge some of the questions Blaine’s parents are bound to ask without blurting out that he’s an actual prince, and Blaine did mention that his parents have an early morning tomorrow, so they can’t even stay too long.

He’s got this.

“Mom, dad?” Blaine says all of sudden, and Kurt notices that they’re already standing right next to the table he saw earlier, still holding hands, and Blaine’s parents are looking up at them with curiosity and interest.

“Oh, honey, you made it!” the woman –- Blaine’s mother –- exclaims, her smile widening. She jumps up and gives Blaine a quick hug, kissing both of his cheeks with loud smacks. Then she turns to look at Kurt, letting go of Blaine and reaching for a handshake. Her smile widens even more, if that’s somehow possible. “Oh, and you must be Kurt! It’s so nice to finally put a face to a name!”

“Finally?” Blaine laughs as he tries to wipe away the lipstick smudges on his cheeks. “Mom, I told you, we’ve only been dating for a week.”

His mom just waves his words away and shakes Kurt’s hand a little too enthusiastically. “Hush, dear. A week is a long time.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt manages to say, hoping his smile looks more happy than constipated and trying not to cringe at the tight grip Blaine’s mom has on his hand.

“Oh, please, call me Pam,” she says, finally letting go of Kurt’s hand. “Mrs. Anderson just makes me feel old. Well, older. But you should definitely call Blaine’s father Mr. Anderson,” she adds, winking. “He likes the feeling of power.”

Blaine’s dad finally nudges his wife out of the way and shakes Kurt’s hand as well, not lingering too long like Pam did. His grip is firm and professional, like he’s shaken his fair share of hands during his life.

“Don’t scare him off already, Pam,” he says before smiling at Kurt, a small, contained smile that still seems genuine. “It’s nice to meet you, Kurt. I’m sorry we just dropped this dinner invite on you all of a sudden this morning.”

“It’s okay!” Kurt assures him, feeling a little less nervous. Blaine’s dad doesn’t seem as enthusiastic or hyper as his mom, and he can see Blaine smiling at him over his mother’s shoulder. “I’m glad we could meet. Should we sit down?”

“Oh, yes!” Pam immediately starts fussing with the chairs. “Here, I think you lovebirds should sit on this side of the table, and Thomas and I will sit opposite you. We already ordered some wine, I hope that’s okay?”

They all sit down, Kurt and Blaine with their cheeks burning, and for a few minutes there’s the hassle of ordering more water and letting the waiter know that they’re not ready to order any food yet. Kurt surreptitiously breathes in and out a few times –- alright, he’s met them, now he just has to actually _talk_ to them -– when he suddenly feels Blaine taking his hand under the table, thumb stroking over Kurt’s knuckles in a reassuring gesture.

Kurt looks up, and Blaine gives him a reassuring grin when his parents aren’t looking, mouthing a single word at him:

 _Courage_.

Something warm and content settles in Kurt’s chest, right around his heart, and he smiles back at Blaine. God, he’s so in love with this boy already. He can’t believe that Blaine keeps insisting he’s not good at romance or relationships when he seems like such a natural. Kurt’s own life is so weird and unexpected in so many ways these days that he sometimes feels almost dizzy with it, wondering if he’ll wake up one morning to realize that this is all just a very elaborate dream Rachel has managed to create with one of her potions -- but somehow it all feels a lot more bearable, a lot more real and understandable, when he’s holding on to Blaine’s hand.

“So, Kurt,” Pam starts as she carefully places her napkin in her lap, “Blaine mentioned that you’re not from New York originally?”

Kurt almost lets out a laugh, because isn’t that the truth, but manages to school his face into a polite expression. “That’s right. I’m just staying here for a while until I figure out what I really want to do with my life.”

The lie was supposed to be just that, a lie to keep out the fact that he’s from another world, but now that he’s said it out loud, it feels weirdly true. He blinks once in surprise and then takes a sip of his water, hoping no one noticed anything. Blaine squeezes his hand under the table, a question to make sure he’s alright, and Kurt squeezes back.

“Oh?” Pam raises her eyebrows. They’re thin and neat, nothing like Blaine’s, even though her eyes look exactly like his. Or Blaine’s eyes look exactly like his mother’s. “Is... I mean, is something wrong with your current life?” she asks, intrigued.

Blaine sighs, and Kurt is pretty sure he can see Blaine’s father –- Mr. Anderson? Thomas? He’s still not exactly sure what he should call him –- hide a smile behind his menu.

“Mom, you promised you wouldn’t interrogate him,” Blaine says, giving his mother a sharp look.

“It’s fine,” Kurt says, turning to look at Blaine’s mother again. “I’m... Well, my dad is in politics,” he explains, “and he’s sort of hoping that I would follow in his footsteps, but I’m not so sure that it’s the right place for me. So I’m trying to figure out what that right place could be instead.”

He can feel Blaine’s eyes on him, heavy and surprised. This one isn’t a lie either, not something he says just to cover up the truth. The more time he spends here in New York, the more he’s starting to realize that as a prince or especially as a king he would never be able to be completely himself. He could never live the way he gets to live his life in here. His dad was right -– he does hate his court duties. Kingleysia is still conservative in so many ways, and the people would never accept a king without a queen, a king with another king. He would always have to hide a part of himself as a king, several parts, even, and ruling a country just isn’t something he dreams about. Not anymore.

Maybe it never has been.

Pam gives him a small, kind smile. “Any idea what that place might be yet?”

This time Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand underneath the table, trying to keep his eyes on Blaine’s parents and not gaze at Blaine like the lovesick fool he is. “I’m still looking for it,” he says. “But I’m pretty happy with what I have right now.”

Pam’s smile widens, as if Kurt passed some sort of a test. She looks around and lifts her hand to gesture at a nearby waiter. “Good. That’s good.” She purses her lips. “And you two can hold hands over the table as well, Thomas and I won’t mind.”

Blaine splutters, and Kurt can feel his own cheeks burning. Blaine’s father coughs to disguise something that sounds suspiciously like a snort, trying to look like he’s completely engrossed in his menu. Thankfully the waiter arrives quickly, and with a small, sheepish smile Blaine finally lets go of Kurt’s hand. Kurt can feel his fingers tingling without the contact, and Blaine’s mother is smiling at them knowingly over the table.

“It really is nice to finally meet one of your boyfriends, Blaine,” she says once she has ordered for herself and given her menu back to the waiter. “All those names and no faces to go with them,” she jokes, winking.

Blaine clears his throat awkwardly and glances at the quiet waiter like he wishes he wasn’t there. “Not that many names, mother,” he corrects her, his voice is strained in the same way it always is when Connor comes up in conversation.

And just like that Blaine’s nervousness earlier that day suddenly makes a lot more sense. From everything Kurt has heard about Connor, he assumed that Blaine’s parents would have met him as well, dined with him a fancy restaurant like this, Blaine holding Connor’s hand under the table and blushing at his mother’s words, the faceless Connor in Kurt’s mind charming the whole Anderson family with his stories. Connor must have been Blaine’s true love at some point, before something went horribly wrong, and Kurt just assumed that Blaine’s parents would be comparing him to Connor for the whole night.

But apparently none of them have anything to compare this dinner to. Kurt is the first one to meet Blaine’s parents, the first one to observe the similarities between Blaine and the people who raised him, the first one to endure the teasing. He looks at Blaine, the way his throat bobs as he swallows, his hands holding on to the menu a bit too tightly, and he can’t help but wonder if Blaine ever even asked Connor to meet his family –- and how he must have felt if he did and didn’t get the answer he was hoping for.

Mr. Anderson gives his wife a surprisingly impressive glare over his menu, and Pam’s smile falls immediately when she realizes what she just did.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m just blabbering.” She reaches over the table to pat Blaine’s hand. “I really am glad that Kurt could join us.”

Kurt nudges Blaine’s foot under the table, and then leaves his own foot there, pressed against Blaine’s shoe.

They all order, and after that the conversation moves on to easier topics. Pam asks Kurt about his interests and they end up talking about fashion for a while, Blaine casually mentioning that Kurt made the shirt he’s wearing himself, which then leads to Pam asking if Kurt could make her a dress one day. Kurt isn’t sure if she’s joking or not, but he promises to think about it anyway. They talk about New York, about Blaine’s job at the community center, the restaurant and its food -– apparently this is the Andersons’ favorite place and they’ve been coming here for years, making a dinner reservation every time they’re in the city. Pam asks about Tina and Mike and their wedding plans, and seems surprised in a positive way when she finds out that Tina and Kurt have become friends as well. They talk a little about Blaine’s brother, Cooper, who seems like a very eccentric personality, and Kurt shares a few stories about Finn and his dad, minus all the references to Kingleysia.

Blaine’s dad stays quiet most of the time, just following the conversation and making a few thoughtful remarks, but his silence is balanced by Pam’s constant questions and interjections. She manages to fill every single awkward silence with words, and even though she blurts out a few cringe-worthy comments, it’s obvious that they come from a place of love and parental worry.

It’s... nice. Kurt is having a surprisingly good time: the food is good and the company even better, and as the evening progresses he can see Blaine relax as well, joking with his dad and boldly holding Kurt’s hand over the table despite the teasing from his mom. Blaine’s parents are easy to talk to, genuine and polite, and it’s obvious that they both care a lot about Blaine.

Kurt finds it fascinating to see familiar expressions on their faces, gestures or movements he is used to seeing Blaine make, such as the way Mr. Anderson runs his hand through his hair when his wife says something particularly uncomfortable. He even gets to hear a few stories about Blaine’s childhood, Blaine groaning and hiding behind his hands when Pam recounts how little Blaine used to run around the house in a blanket cape, singing songs he’d come up with all by himself. Kurt grins at Blaine the whole time, hoping they could be back at the apartment already so he could properly tease him.

Maybe they can compare capes one day, make a whole evening out of it. He even comes up with a title for the evening: " _Capes, the pros and cons of wearing them and how not to trip over them when you’re in a hurry._ "

Before they get dessert Pam notices an old friend of hers on the other side of the restaurant and excuses herself to go talk to her for a while. Kurt gets up as well and goes to the restroom to make sure his hair is still looking good. The restroom is just as fancy as the restaurant itself, with large gleaming mirrors and the fresh scent of citrus and flowers in the air, everything properly polished. Kurt looks at his reflection in the mirror for a long time, cheeks pink and eyes smiling. He’s not nervous anymore. He feels good, happy even, like he wouldn’t mind meeting Blaine’s parents again –- and isn’t that an odd thought?

He pushes a few strands of hair away from his face, straightens his clothes, and then walks slowly back into the restaurant, smiling and humming to himself. Right as he’s about to reach their table he hears Blaine’s father say his name.

“You really like Kurt, don’t you?”

Kurt freezes. There’s a pillar with an overflowing flower arrangement on top of it between him and the table, and when he peers over it he can see that Pam still hasn’t come back. Blaine and his dad are sitting at the table, their profiles to Kurt, and Kurt ducks behind the flowers, not wanting to interrupt.

“I do,” Blaine answers with a sigh, sounding more weary than he has all evening. “I really do. And that’s what’s so scary about it, to be honest.”

Kurt stands on his tiptoes and peeks over the flowers again. Blaine’s face doesn’t look comfortable or happy anymore, as if they were a front he’s been trying to hold up all evening. He looks nervous now, terrified even, the same way he did all those weeks ago in the park when they were talking about true love for the first time. When Blaine closed off, and Kurt hadn’t the faintest idea why.

“What’s scary about that?” Mr. Anderson frowns. “You’ve never been scared of feeling too much before,” he adds, obviously trying to go for teasing.

Blaine shrugs, ignoring his father’s tone of voice and drawing patterns on the table top with his fingertip. “I’m not actually very good at this, dad. At relationships or-– or love.” He looks up, almost desperate. “I mean, I know you and mom have this _amazing_ relationship, and you always seem so happy together, even if you’re fighting or mom is being her ridiculous self, and I–- I want something like that as well. I do, dad. I’m just... not so sure if I can have it.”

Kurt swallows roughly, his heart thumping loudly against his chest. He really shouldn’t be eavesdropping on this conversation, but he can’t help it. Even when he was little he used to listen in on all of his dad’s official meetings, standing behind the door with his ear pressed against it, especially if the meeting was about his own education or something else that was related to his life. He should turn around now, though; go back to the restroom for a while, wait until Blaine and his dad are done –- but he can’t move away, rooted to the spot by the combination of fear and longing in Blaine’s voice.

Blaine’s dad sighs, scratching his forehead for a moment before he answers. “This is about Connor, isn’t it?”

Blaine immediately shakes his head. “No, dad-–”

“Look, I don’t know what exactly he did to you when you two broke up,” Mr. Anderson interrupts, “but I know that he did something. Something that made you change into this person who tries to convince himself that love doesn’t exist or that relationships could never work out. You’ve been trying to keep everybody at an arm’s length ever since.”

Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose, not meeting his dad’s eyes. “You sound like Tina.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to her,” Mr. Anderson quips. “Do you think that me and your mother never get scared? Whenever we have a big fight, we both know that it could be our last. That one of us could just walk out and never come back. But we never do, because I know that she loves me and I love her, and we have chosen to be in this marriage. We’re willing to work for it.”

“Dad, I know.” Blaine rolls his eyes, getting exasperated. “I’ve seen you two fight, I know it’s not all lovey-dovey happy-happy-joy-joy. I know all of that.” He leans his head on his hands, looking towards the ceiling and blinking his eyes. “I just... I don’t know, forget about it.” He looks back down again, starting to straighten the utensils in front of him, an obvious distraction.

“You just what?” Mr. Anderson prompts gently after a moment.

Blaine’s hands halt. “I just don’t want to get my heart broken again,” he confesses, his voice so quiet that Kurt has to strain his ears to hear it over the restaurant’s background noise. “I don’t want to–- to put my heart on the line just to see everything fall apart. Give my everything and get nothing back in return, you know?” He glances at his dad, a little unsure. “I don’t–- I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to handle it again.”

“Blaine,” Mr. Anderson sighs, sounding worried. “You need to accept the fact that you’re the kind of a person who will always put his heart on the line when he really wants something. You did it with the Warblers, with college, with your job, and–- yes, even with Connor, even though it didn’t end that well.” He reaches over the table to squeeze Blaine’s shoulder. “It’s who you are. It means that you will get hurt sometimes, quite spectacularly even, but it also means that you can find something extraordinary and really fight for it to last.”

Blaine crosses his arms over his chest, shrugging his father’s hand away. “You’re my dad, not a therapist. Do you have a point in there somewhere?” he mutters.

“I’m paying the bill tonight, son, so you better clean up your act,” Mr. Anderson reminds him half-jokingly, making Blaine roll his eyes again, this time with a small twitch of his lips.

Kurt hides his own smile behind his hand. So apparently Mr. Anderson isn’t that silent after all; he just lets his wife have the spotlight when there are other people around. The easy way he talks to Blaine reminds Kurt of his own dad, always ready to give advice and show him that he cares. He unconsciously reaches to touch his brooch until he realizes that he left it home tonight, not really even sure why. He just didn’t feel like wearing it.

He has been feeling like that a lot lately.

“The point is,” Mr. Anderson is saying, “that I can already see you putting your heart on the line with Kurt, even though you’re obviously trying to fight it.” He smiles. “I haven’t seen you this relaxed and happy in ages, Blaine.”

Blaine looks down and continues rubbing the table top. “You sound like Tina again,” he says quietly.

“What you don’t seem to realize, though,” Mr. Anderson goes on, ignoring Blaine’s comment with a flick of his hand, “is that Kurt is doing the exact same thing.”

Blaine’s head snaps up. Behind the pillar Kurt freezes.

“He’s obviously putting his heart on the line as well,” Mr. Anderson explains with a shrug. “And from what I can tell, his heart seems to be just as big and determined as yours. He was even able to deal with your mother’s antics. That should tell you something.”

Blaine lets out a laugh, but it sounds forced and faint, like he’s trying to hide how overwhelmed and confused he is.

Mr. Anderson takes a sip of his wine, and if Kurt isn’t mistaken, his eyes seem to be sparkling. “So if you want my opinion, even though you didn’t ask for it... Don’t be scared of being scared, Blaine. Relationships are scary and messy and confusing, and nobody is good at them. Not even me and your mother.” He points his finger at Blaine. “But the point is to try anyway, and learn as you go along. The point is to find someone whose ideas of love match your ideas of it. Someone who’s ready to put his heart on the line as well.”

Blaine is looking at his father, eyes wide open, but Kurt can’t tear his eyes away from Blaine, his hands clammy against the pillar and his heart in his throat. A waitress gives him a curious look as she passes him with a tray full of champagne glasses but doesn’t thankfully say anything.

“And that’s what makes me think that this thing you have with Kurt won’t be like Connor. That you can handle it, no matter what,” Mr. Anderson finishes with a shrug. “That’s all.”

Blaine blinks his eyes a few times and then breathes out slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I... I don’t know, dad. It’s easier said than done,” he says in a low voice, patting a hand over his gelled hair in a nervous gesture.

“Well, just keep it in mind anyway,” Mr. Anderson answers. He straightens in his seat, looking over Blaine’s shoulder and furrowing his brows. “Now where on earth is your mother? She can’t be talking to Heather this long. Those two hate each other.”

Right at that moment, as if she heard her husband’s comment, Blaine’s mom makes her way through the restaurant, hips swaying and hands carefully fluffing her long hair, a satisfied smirk on her face. Once she reaches the table she squeezes Blaine’s shoulder and leans down to kiss her husband’s cheek before she sits down, letting out a small, pleased hum.

Kurt can see Blaine raise his eyebrows. “Pam Anderson one, Heather Jackson zero, I take it?” he asks.

Pam just smiles in answer and reaches for her wine. “Kurt isn’t back yet? Should you go check on him, Blaine? He has been in that restroom for an awfully long time.”

Kurt startles back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. He takes a few steps backwards, away from the pillar with the flowers, almost bumping into another waiter. He straightens his shirt and his tie again, plasters a polite smile on his face, hoping that no one can tell that he just heard the entire conversation between Blaine and his father and that his heart is doing all sorts of weird somersaults and skips inside his chest, confused and hopeful and terrified all at the same time. Then he walks past the pillar and makes his way to the table.

“Sorry,” he breathes out as he sits down, as if he just rushed through the restaurant. “There was a line, and some older man had taken over the only mirror with decent lighting. Did you order dessert already?”

Blaine tilts his head like he can tell that Kurt’s not being completely honest, but then he smiles, small and private, and nudges Kurt’s shoulder with his own. He doesn’t look like a man who just had a serious conversation with his father, the polite and happy look back on his face, but somehow Kurt knows that there’s a lot more going on underneath that smile of his.

“Remember the cheesecake you had in that coffee shop near my apartment?” Blaine asks abruptly while his parents are motioning at the nearest waiter.

Kurt swallows down the moan that threatens to come out of his mouth. Parents present, moaning not appropriate. Even though he’s never had anything as amazing as that cheesecake in his entire life. “Yes?”

Blaine leans closer to him, his warm breath tickling Kurt’s cheek. “The cheesecake here is even better,” he whispers with a grin.

Kurt can feel a pleasant, warm shiver go through his body, and he’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with cheesecake and everything to do with Blaine.

 

\---

 

“So.”

Blaine pushes his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels while they wait for the light to turn green. “So.”

“That was a great restaurant,” Kurt tries, not really knowing what else to say after the whirlwind of emotions he's had this evening. “And you were right about the cheesecake,” he adds as an afterthought.

Except cheesecake should never be just an afterthought. Especially cheesecake as delicious as the one he just had. He almost starts salivating just thinking about it.

Blaine shivers in the cool night air and laughs. “I could never afford to eat there on my own. So I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.”

“Oh, I did.” Kurt smirks teasingly. “I especially enjoyed the story of little Blaine running around wearing nothing but a towel as a cape, singing his heart out–-”

Blaine groans. “No, please, let’s _not_ talk about that. I don’t even know why she insisted on bringing that up...”

The rest of the dinner was just as pleasant as the beginning, even if Blaine didn’t hold his hand either under or over the table again. Kurt can only guess why. They said goodbye to Blaine’s parents outside the restaurant, Pam insisting on giving Kurt a hug, and then escorted them to a waiting taxi, Blaine promising to call them soon. Mr. Anderson tried to give Kurt and Blaine money for a cab ride as well, but Blaine refused, saying that they might as well walk or take the subway since they’re in no hurry.

The light changes, and they start walking again. Kurt can already see Blaine’s building ahead of them, tall and familiar and inviting, and he unconsciously quickens his steps. As much as Kurt loves all of New York, Blaine’s apartment is still the place where he feels most at home, most comfortable. He has started to miss it when he’s out, like one can miss a relaxing bath after a long day.

“I don’t think your parents were a handful, to be honest,” Kurt says when they finally reach the door of Blaine’s building. “They didn’t even make a big fuss about us. Or, well, not as big as I was expecting from everything you’d told me about them.”

Blaine glances back at him as he walks to the elevator. “So that was a normal reaction by Kingleysian standards?”

Kurt lets out a laugh. “Pretty much. They were nice.” He doesn’t get the same swooping, unsteady feeling in his stomach anymore when he rides the elevator, like he did during his first weeks. Another thing he’s gotten used to. “It’s obvious that they love you,” he adds.

Blaine hums. “I know.” He turns his keys around in his hand, staring the changing floor numbers on the small display. “We had a rough couple of years when I was younger, with a lot of miscommunication and so on. I just wish they didn’t worry about me so much.”

The elevator reaches the right floor, and they step out, Blaine moving to open the door to his apartment. He lets Kurt inside first, and Kurt immediately feels his muscles relax as he breathes in the familiar scent of the tiny flat. It’s nothing special, just the faint fragrance of the cleaning products Blaine uses, of too many cups of coffee and old books, of raspberry scented hair gel and the underlying touch of just... Blaine. Of home.

Blaine flicks the lights on and starts making his way through the apartment. “Geez, it’s chilly in here. Did we leave a window open or something...?”

Kurt shrugs out of his coat, draping it carefully over the chair in the living room. His brooch is still on the coffee table, right where he left it, and when he reaches down to trail his fingers over it, it’s just as cold as before. Maybe even colder, what with the chill in the apartment. Not that he even expected anything else.

“No birds waiting for you on the fire escape,” Blaine jokes when he comes back from the kitchen, already untying his bowtie. “They didn’t even leave a message.”

Kurt gives him a small smile and sits down on the couch. “They haven’t really come around that much lately. I guess they’re busy.”

“Oh.” Blaine furrows his brows. “That’s strange. I don’t think it’s mating season right now or anything.”

He leaves his bowtie on the chair over Kurt’s coat and moves to sit down as well, closer to Kurt than he has been all evening. Kurt’s sketchbook is on the table, closed shut with a few pencils placed over it, and Blaine stares at it for a moment with a soft smile, before he turns to look at Kurt.

“You know, I’ve probably said this several times already, but... Thank you for this,” he says. “For meeting my parents and not running away screaming after my mom finished her first glass of wine.”

Kurt tilts his head. He thought he knew a lot about Blaine already, about his past and the way he sees the world, but everything he saw and heard tonight are making him realize that there’s still so much he doesn’t know, so many things he hasn’t even thought about before. It’s a bit overwhelming, in a good way -– he wants to know more about Blaine, as much as he can; wants to see Blaine open up completely and hear about the things he has gone through. Not by eavesdropping, because he still regrets doing that tonight, at least a little, as enlightening as it was, but by talking to Blaine, by being there for him.

Tonight was just a part of that.

“No need to thank me,” he replies with a smile. “It was my pleasure. Privilege, even.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Like I said, I had fun. It was nice to see this whole other side of you,” he teases.

Blaine looks at him, something unreadable in his eyes, gaze flicking down to his mouth. Kurt raises his eyebrows in question, but before he can say anything Blaine suddenly leans forward, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips against Kurt’s, fearless and sure. Kurt sucks in a surprised breath, his eyelids fluttering closed, mind blanking out for a moment except for one clear thought.

_Oh, there you are._

Blaine pushes a little closer, lips sliding over Kurt’s like he can’t get enough, his hand moving to cup Kurt’s cheek. Kurt instinctively pushes back, reaching for Blaine with both of his hands, and his mind comes back to life again, fireworks and sparks and bright colors exploding behind his eyelids. One of his hands touches Blaine’s waist, keeping him close and feeling the way his body is trembling underneath the thin fabric of his shirt; the other comes to rest on the curve of Blaine’s shoulder, pulling him in like he never wants to let him go.

And he doesn’t. He’s never been kissed -– he’s always dreamed about it and listened to Rachel’s elaborate stories about her first kiss with glassy eyes and longing sighs -– but he never could’ve imagined something like this, with Blaine’s nose skimming over his cheek and his lips tingling, something warm and excited and wonderful filling his whole body, rushing through his veins and whooshing in his ears.

Blaine’s tongue hesitantly traces over the seam of his lips, pushing and pulling and drawing him in, and Kurt gasps into the kiss. He opens his mouth when Blaine sucks at his lower lip, tilting his head for better access, and oh _gosh_ , this must be what Rachel was talking about every time she got that dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. Kurt’s hand grips Blaine’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric and dragging him closer on the couch, Blaine moving in pliantly until he’s almost in Kurt’s lap. It’s–- so much, like Kurt can’t get enough, of Blaine and his lips and the closeness, like he wants to bury himself in Blaine.

Blaine shifts closer still, his shirt pulling up with the movement, and Kurt’s hand suddenly slips underneath its hem, finally feeling heated skin against his fingertips, soft and intoxicating. Blaine shivers against him, lips trembling with one last kiss before he slowly, tentatively pulls away. Kurt chases his mouth and tightens his grip on Blaine, his body refusing to let go until the last possible moment, until he can only feel air against his swollen lips.

Blaine takes a deep breath and slides his hand down to Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt blinks his eyes open, finally seeing exactly how close they are, and it takes him a while to lift his eyes from Blaine’s shiny and well-kissed mouth because he did that, he made that -– he painted Blaine’s face with those tints of red, and Blaine most likely did the same to Kurt’s own lips.

“How was that?” Blaine asks quietly, searching Kurt’s face.

“W-what?” Kurt manages to croak, his voice breathless and deeper than before.

Blaine looks away with a shy smile, biting his lip as he plays with the collar of Kurt’s shirt. “I wanted your first kiss to be special.” He glances back at Kurt. “I mean, I assumed that this was your first kiss? With all the talk about true love and–-”

Kurt shivers, a pleasant thrill that runs up his spine and makes him push his open palm closer to the sliver of bare skin below the hem of Blaine’s shirt. “It was,” he admits. “It was my first kiss.”

Blaine stares at Kurt’s neck, his brows furrowed. “My own first kiss was... Well, my first kiss was actually with a girl back in high school.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it doesn’t matter. “I was at a friend’s party and wanted to find out if I really was gay. I was also drunk for the first time in my life, and it wasn’t... It was sloppy and weird. Certainly confirmed my sexuality.” He frowns as he goes on. “And my first kiss with another guy was in high school as well, with my first boyfriend who turned out to be a complete jerk, and the kiss itself was too much teeth and saliva, and I almost choked on his tongue, so I...”

Kurt rubs his thumb over the curve of Blaine’s hip when he doesn’t continue immediately. “You what?”

“I wanted you to have a good first kiss,” Blaine says, finally looking into his eyes. “I wanted it to be better than-–”

Kurt surges forward, cutting his words off by capturing his lips in another kiss, soft and slow instead of the previous heat and urgency. He keeps his eyes open this time, watching as Blaine melts against him, as his worried gaze disappears behind his fluttering eyelids, his ridiculously long eyelashes trembling. He looks so beautiful, and he doesn’t even know it himself. He doesn’t know how he makes Kurt feel special every single day.

He doesn’t even realize how loudly Kurt’s heart is beating right now.

So Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and guides it to his chest, presses it against his hammering heart just as he breaks the kiss. Blaine blinks his eyes open and looks down at his hand on Kurt’s chest, curling his fingers into the fabric between their skins.

“It was special,” Kurt says in a low voice. “So incredibly special. Because it was with you.”

Blaine looks up, and then his face breaks into a smile. He pecks Kurt’s cheek, fingers curling even more, rumpling Kurt’s shirt and fisting it tightly.

“Good,” Blaine replies. “You deserve special.”

 _So do you_ , Kurt thinks, and it’s that thought that makes him say the next words out loud.

“Stay here tonight?”

Blaine freezes in surprise.

“I mean,” Kurt backtracks, tightening his hold on Blaine’s hand in the fear that he’s going to bolt, “I mean that I don’t want to let go of you right now –- I feel like I even can’t let go of you, like it’s somehow physically impossible, and I just thought that you could sleep here tonight -– just sleep!” he adds, eyes widening in panic. “Just sleep, nothing... else, obviously, and maybe I could hold you or your hand while I sleep or something because I... I would like that. After that kiss. You know.”

Blaine giggles, a squeaky wet sound. “You’re adorable when you get all rambly.”

“Oh.” Kurt can feel his shoulders relax. “Is that a yes?”

Blaine smiles. “You want to stay here? Instead of my bedroom?”

Kurt nods. He wants to see the early morning sunlight on Blaine’s face when he wakes up, the soft orange glow that filters through the living room curtains right when the sun comes up, warming the whole apartment. Besides, somehow the thought of going into Blaine’s bedroom tonight feels too... private.

“Okay,” Blaine says.

“Okay?” Kurt repeats.

“Yeah,” Blaine replies with a laugh. “I’ll just go change, and then I’ll be right back.”

He strokes his hand over Kurt’s chest one last time and then moves to get up, Kurt’s hand falling down from his hip.

“One more kiss before you go,” Kurt blurts out. He reaches up and takes Blaine’s face in his hands, pulling him into a deep, wet kiss. He can feel Blaine smiling into the kiss, Kurt's own toes curling against the carpet as a warm shiver runs down his whole body.

He’s already getting addicted to kissing Blaine.

They break apart with a loud _smack_ , Blaine grinning down at Kurt as he straightens up. He keeps his eyes on Kurt and then slowly walks backwards until he reaches his bedroom door and ducks inside, already opening the buttons of his shirt.

This time Kurt lets himself squeal and kick his feet.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. Again, apologies for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this extra long chapter! Please leave a comment if you do. ♥
> 
> Also, this the point where this fic gets its M rating, oh my goodness! ;)

Blaine wakes up slowly that morning. He feels like he’s slept better than he has in weeks, his brain clearer and the fog of sleep leaving him with a gentle caress, not screaming and kicking like it usually does. His cheek is pressed against something soft and warm, and he takes a deep breath, slowly wiggling his bare toes closer to the warmth of the blanket over him. His pillow smells familiar, like a comforting embrace after a long day at work, and Blaine turns his head to hide a smile in its softness, nuzzling the fabric that feels–-

A lot more like an old, worn-out t-shirt than an actual pillow case.

Blaine blinks his eyes open. The sunlight is streaming in through the curtains, turning the whole apartment yellow and orange, and somewhere above his head Kurt lets out a sleepy hum. A warm hand strokes slowly over Blaine’s back, rucking up his shirt, and then the chest he’s resting his head on shifts slightly, rising and falling with calm breaths. Blaine’s arm is wrapped around Kurt’s waist, one of his knees slotted between Kurt’s legs –- and yep, that is his morning erection pressed against Kurt’s thigh.

Blaine takes another breath, letting the comforting scent of sleep and Kurt and warmth fill his senses for another moment before he slowly disentangles himself from Kurt, moving his limbs carefully so he doesn’t wake him. Kurt tightens his hold on Blaine’s back for a moment but then lets go with a soft sigh, turning on his side and making a mumbling, questioning sound in his sleep.

When they went to sleep they were lying on their own sides of the sofa bed, plenty of room between them. Kurt had reached out a hand and Blaine had taken it, sleepily tangling their fingers together in the empty space between their bodies -– but obviously during the night Blaine’s body had shifted closer and closer until they ended up like this. Blaine’s always been a cuddler, everyone he’s ever slept with has told him that, but he’s never really cuddled someone this intensely on their first night together. Not that he minds.

Blaine sits up carefully on the bed and pushes a hand through his hair, staring at Kurt’s sleeping form. Kurt isn’t exactly snoring, but he does snuffle a little, fingers wrapped around one corner of the blanket and a small, content smile playing on his lips. His hair is flopping over his forehead at the front and pointing in every other direction at the back, and he has pillow marks on his cheek.

Blaine smiles, lowering his hand back to his lap. Kurt is especially beautiful in the mornings. He looks so young like this, not at all like a magical prince, but more like an ordinary man who is still somehow extraordinary in his own way. He doesn’t look as intimidating, as distant and unattainable as he used to look like in Blaine’s eyes. He looks more familiar, more like... _home_ , something Blaine can hold on to. An anchor against the unsteady winds.

He never knew he could feel like this.

Blaine bends down to place a small kiss on Kurt’s hair and then slides out of the bed, shivering when his feet hit the cold floor. He adjusts his pants, the awkward problem caused by the warm body lying next to him already wilting away. When he passes the window for the fire escape on his way to the kitchen he sees a pigeon sitting on the railing, and pauses for a moment. He watches as the bird flutters its wings and scratches its feathers with its beak, as if it’s just casually doing its morning routine and enjoying the sunshine. Blaine smiles again.

He finds his phone on the kitchen counter, and as he turns the coffee machine on he notices that he has a new message.

 **From Tina:**  
_I saw on Facebook that your parents were in town! I hope you said hi to them from me!_

Blaine will never understand why Tina is friends with his parents on Facebook. Never. He sighs and starts to type a reply, but somehow his fingers end up tapping a completely different message instead.

 **From Blaine:**  
_I kissed Kurt_

He stares at the words on the screen, his thumb hovering over the send button. After a moment’s hesitation he erases them instead and places his phone back on the counter, deciding to call Tina later. He doesn’t want to share this one with her, not yet. Sharing it with his parents this soon was weird enough as it is, and sometimes it feels like everything he feels for Kurt is happening too fast, even though he logically knows that what’s actually happened has been rather gradual. Especially when he remembers that Kurt is from a place where it’s completely normal and acceptable to get married the day after your first date.

To Kurt their pace must feel glacial, but Blaine just isn’t used to his boyfriend meeting his parents after a week of dating. He’s not used to his boyfriend meeting his parents, period.

The coffee machine gurgles when it finishes, and Blaine pours himself a cup, adding a little less sugar than he usually would. He wants to taste the bitterness this morning, to remind himself that this is real. He pads out of the kitchen again, glancing at Kurt’s sleeping form on the sofa bed, and then pushes the window open and steps through it onto the fire escape. The pigeon from earlier has flown away already, and the steam from his coffee seems to become tenser and whiter when the chilly morning air hits it.

Blaine leans against the railing and wraps his fingers around his mug, his thoughts wandering back to last night. His parents’ reaction to Kurt and Kurt’s reaction to them, the pleasant dinner, his dad’s words –- and then kissing Kurt, multiple times even, his heart skipping a few beats and his whole body shivering with emotion every time their lips met. It should all feel like too much, like he’s heading towards another heartbreak, but it just... doesn’t. It’s almost strange how calm he feels instead. The things Kurt makes him feel –- this urge to be as close to him as possible, to take him out for dates, to even woo him with serenades and other displays of his affection -– are also the things he has desperately tried not to feel for a long time, because he knew, or thought he knew, that they would only lead to heartbreak and to that cold, dreary day when he would have to wake up in the real world again. Alone.

_The point is to try anyway, and learn as you go along._

He can hear faint noises from the apartment, so he just closes his eyes against the morning sunlight, breathing in the scent of strong coffee and New York City. A few moments later there are soft footsteps and then the creak of the fire escape as someone else steps on it. Long, strong arms wrap around his waist from behind, and he can feel a nose nuzzling the curve of his neck. It’s such a small gesture, but it still makes him feel like he could fly.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Kurt mumbles. He yawns against the nape of Blaine’s neck. “How long have you been up?”

Blaine blinks his eyes open, leaning against Kurt’s solid body. “Not that long. There’s coffee in the kitchen,” he adds.

“Ohhh, you are the best,” Kurt moans, the sound making warm sparks run down Blaine’s body. “I can’t even understand why I’m so addicted to that drink. But I just am. We don’t have anything like it in Kingleysia.”

Blaine just hums in response. He turns around in Kurt’s warm embrace until they’re face to face, and then leans in to place a kiss on Kurt’s lips. Kurt accepts it easily, his fingers curling closer to the small of Blaine’s back, to the vulnerable skin there that not too many people have gotten the permission to touch. When Blaine leans away again there’s a soft smile on Kurt’s face, as if he’s still pleasantly surprised by every single kiss he gets.

“What are you doing out here?” Kurt asks, still smiling. “Rehearsing your whistling skills so you can have a competition with the birds?” he jokes.

Blaine smiles and shrugs. “Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“How much you terrify me,” Blaine replies.

Kurt’s eyes widen, his arms stilling around Blaine’s body. “B-but you said I don’t-–”

“It’s a good thing,” Blaine interrupts him. “You terrify me in a good way. In the best possible way. The way birds must feel before they fly for the first time.” He glances at the sky, squinting towards the light. “I think I’ve been playing it safe for far too long.”

Kurt looks at him for a long moment, searching his face with his brows furrowed. “You’re an odd one, Blaine Anderson,” he says slowly, considering. “I keep thinking that I’ve figured you out, but then you go and surprise me all over again.”

“I could say the same about you,” Blaine counters. He reaches out to place his coffee mug on one of the stairs and then folds his own arms around Kurt’s neck, pulling him closer. “Always zigging when I think you’re about to zag,” he teases.

Kurt lets out a surprised laugh at that, swaying their bodies back and forth. “That’s a new one. Haven’t heard that expression before.”

Blaine tightens his hold on Kurt and closes his eyes. He wants to try. Kurt makes him want to try, to trust that he won’t fall and break his heart again. To give in and accept those parts of himself that he’s pushed away for so long.

Kurt feels so warm and welcome against him, and for a moment he aches to trail his hands lower, kiss his lips down Kurt’s (long, beautiful) neck, lower and lower, until he gets the chance to explore and worship those parts of Kurt’s body that are usually hidden underneath layers and layers of clothes. He’s seen the way Kurt looks at him, the heat and want in his gaze, but he also knows that with the way Kingleysia is Kurt probably doesn’t have much experience, and he doesn’t want to push him. He doesn’t want to do anything that could make Kurt uncomfortable.

So he just kisses Kurt’s neck, just once, enjoying the way Kurt’s breathing hitches in response. “Thank you,” he says softly against his skin.

Kurt’s hands move up and down his back, slow and sure, comforting even if Blaine doesn’t need to be comforted right now. “You keep thanking me, even though you don’t have to,” Kurt says, his voice contemplative. “Even though I’m not even sure what you’re thanking me for.”

“Maybe I’m just thanking you for yelling at a sign for an Indian restaurant.” Blaine is only half-joking -– because when he thinks about it seriously, he really is grateful for that rainy night when Nathan stood him up –- but Kurt still snorts out a laugh.

“In my defense,” he says haughtily, “I was scared and that sign was shining the same way some magical objects in Kingleysia shine. It was an understandable mistake.” His hands dip lower on Blaine’s back, slowly sliding over the waistband of his pajama pants. “But if you really want to thank me for it, you’re welcome.”

He tilts his head a little, and this time it’s Kurt who kisses Blaine, pressing their lips together with a pleased hum. It’s hard for Blaine to believe that yesterday really was Kurt’s first kiss when he kisses him like this, making Blaine’s stomach flip and his legs feel weak. There is a certain tentativeness in Kurt’s kiss, like he’s exploring the sensations and figuring out what to do, carefully moving his lips against Blaine’s. But there’s also a sense of determination, of excitement, in the way that he pushes closer, makes small, breathy noises in the back of his mouth, and nips at Blaine’s lower lip.

Blaine lets Kurt control the kiss, just enjoying the slip and slide of their mouths, not even caring that they’re standing on the fire escape in plain view. Kurt’s hands move even lower, the light touch of his fingertips trailing down and down until they reach Blaine’s ass and settle there, pressing a little closer. The touch shoots a warm jolt of pleasure through Blaine’s body, and he gasps, breaking the kiss and blinking his eyes open.

“Breakfast?” he manages to get out, and wow, when did his voice get this wrecked and his breathing this heavy?

Kurt’s hands dance their way up, back to Blaine’s sides, and he grins, something heated still shimmering behind his eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’m in the mood for some pancakes.”

Blaine laughs and slowly moves himself away from Kurt’s embrace, even though he doesn’t necessarily want to move. His stomach is starting to growl, though, and his coffee must be cold already. “Pancakes it is.”

 

\---

 

He gets the idea when he’s at work, quietly tuning his guitar and watching as Kurt tells a story about dragons and magic to the kids sitting around them in a circle. Kurt has become a regular visitor in these particular sessions, singing along to the songs Blaine comes up with and letting the younger kids climb onto his lap if they start to feel tired. Even the really shy ones have relaxed around him by now, and there’s always a chorus of excited cheers when Kurt steps into the room. The children never seem to get tired of his stories and his prince costume.

Because somehow that’s what the clothes have started to look like more and more recently: like a costume. The tights and the tunic are still impeccable, they still fit Kurt perfectly, and it’s obvious that no one else has noticed anything different about them –- but somehow, to Blaine, the Kingleysian clothes aren’t an essential part of who Kurt is anymore. He doesn’t wear them that often, mostly just when he’s attending one of Blaine’s sessions, and even though he still looks like a handsome Disney prince, he doesn’t look like he was _meant_ to wear those clothes.

Somehow Kurt looks a lot more like himself when he’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a patterned shirt, with a scarf around his neck instead of a cape.

Even his hair looks different: the traces of magic that were keeping it impeccable during his first weeks in New York haven’t come back, and Kurt has learned to rely on hairspray without complaints. One morning he even told Blaine that he likes it, likes styling his hair just the way he wants it and not just waking up every morning with the same –- admittedly nice –- hairdo.

They are all subtle changes, most likely invisible to everyone else except Blaine, but they are there. They’re in the way Kurt carries himself, still regal and with his head held up high, but looking more comfortable in his own skin, less like he’s just trying to keep up appearances and fit to some mold of what everyone else expects him to be. He gestures more with his hands, with his whole body even, not trying to keep every single movement he makes so contained and determined. He even stumbles and fumbles sometimes, blushing and then laughing at himself, not so worried about being perfect all the time anymore.

It’s fascinating. Blaine could spend hours and hours just watching the way Kurt moves and talks and breathes, and sometimes during these lessons he gets lost in it for a moment, everything else blurring out and disappearing from his senses.

He is kind of doing it right now.

Blaine blinks, shakes his head and then goes back to tuning his guitar, smiling down at it when one of the older girls asks Kurt if he’s ever slain a dragon like all the princes in the fairytales she has read.

“Oh no, of course I haven’t,” Kurt answers, shaking his head vehemently. “They don’t actually kidnap people, you know –- most of them are more like nannies, or private tutors, and many kings and queens like to ask for their help.”

“What’s a tutor?” one of the younger boys whispers.

“A teacher,” Blaine replies instinctively, butting in. Kurt lifts his head and looks at him, a small grin on his face. “Sorry, go on,” Blaine adds, feeling his own cheeks turning warm.

“There are some dragons who can be dangerous,” Kurt continues, “but they always have a reason for it. My hometown had a big dragon problem when I was around your age. They destroyed many buildings and fields near the outskirts of the city, but after a few weeks it came to my father’s attention that one of the farmers had actually found a dragon egg in his field and kept it for himself, the idiot. So no wonder the dragons were angry.”

“They were trying to protect their baby!” one of the girls exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder. “Mr. Kurt, please tell me that you gave the egg back to them!”

“We did, of course...”

Blaine tunes out of the conversation again, staring at Kurt. He’s been so amazing, with everything. They’ve slept together on the sofa bed almost every night after that first time, waking up with their limbs tangled up together, and Blaine can’t remember the last time he’s felt this content and safe around someone. They’ve been dating for a few weeks now, and it has been so different from all the other boyfriends Blaine has had, in some strange way –- deeper and more meaningful, but still more careful as well, both of them handling each other with tenderness and care, even though sometimes Blaine just wants to rip off Kurt’s clothes and touch every part of him. But he doesn’t want to rush this, rush Kurt, and they have only been dating for...

Blaine blinks again, his fingers stilling against the guitar’s strings. They haven’t actually been on a date yet, though. They’ve gone out, had lunch in tiny coffee shops and wandered around the streets looking for interesting shops and taking in the sights, all of which could be seen as dates, but they haven’t... They already did all of those things when they were just friends. Kurt does those things with Tina as well, and so does Blaine. It’s not the same thing.

None of their outings have had the intention of being a date behind them.

Blaine lowers his guitar a little, wetting his lips. It’s been such a long time since he’s asked anyone out on a date. Or even had a date -– felt the nervous pre-date jitters in his stomach and planned what they could do and where to go, daydreamed about the possible goodnight kiss after a successful date. After Connor his love life was completely non-existent for such a long time, and Nathan never called any of their plans dates. They just went to have dinner or lunch or breakfast, and that was it. Blaine himself always tried to call them dates, at least inside his head and especially when he was talking to his friends, but... With Nathan so studiously not using the word, something always felt a bit fake about it.

But Kurt–-

Kurt has probably never even been on a date. He was so confused by the whole concept when Blaine first brought it up, and everything Blaine has learned about Kingleysia makes it sound like a place where dating doesn’t even exist, because it’s just not necessary. But dates can be so amazing, if done well and with care. Blaine used to love planning dates when he was with Connor. He was good at it, even, if he dares to say so himself, after everything that went wrong.

Kurt is laughing at something one of the kids has said, his head thrown back and his shoulders shaking, his eyes shining with happiness and ease. Blaine swallows, his heart skipping a beat inside his chest.

Kurt deserves a date. He deserves all the dates Blaine has to offer.

“Oh goodness, I think it’s time for another song, don’t you?” Kurt is saying to the kids, clapping his hands together. He turns his head to look at Blaine, his mouth still turned up in a smile. “What do you think, Mr. Blaine?”

Blaine blinks his eyes yet again, finally noticing that Kurt and all the children are staring at him, waiting for him to continue. Kurt tilts his head, a concerned look crossing over his face.

“Blaine? Everything okay?” he asks, gently nudging the little girl in his lap so that she will move back to the floor.

“Y-yeah,” Blaine breathes out and shakes his head, “yeah, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.” He takes a deep breath and straightens his back. “How about a song about dragons, now that we’ve heard from Mr. Kurt what they’re really like?”

The kids cheer, scrambling to get closer to Blaine and his guitar again. For the rest of the session Blaine can feel Kurt’s eyes on him, curious and considering.

 

\---

 

He manages to get two tickets to _Wicked_ , thanks to Tina’s connections in New York’s theater world. She only coos and giggles after forcing him to tell her why he needs them, as if she knew this was going to happen all along.

It’s a little unnerving.

A musical seemed like the obvious choice –- they’ve been slowly going through Blaine’s movie collection ever since the beginning of their friendship, and Kurt always has the most intense reaction to movie musicals. With every musical they’ve watched Kurt has ended up sitting at the edge of his seat, leaning closer and closer to the television screen, sometimes with silent tears streaming down his face; clutching Blaine’s arm or hand so tightly that it’s a wonder there aren’t any bruises there the next day. And _Wicked_... Well, somehow that particular musical just screams Kurt to Blaine.

He makes a reservation for two at his favorite Italian restaurant after that, the one he hasn’t taken Kurt to yet because it’s a bit more expensive and he can’t afford to go there too often. But for a date, especially for a first date, he’s willing to splurge. Besides, Kurt loves Italian food and gets an excited glint in his eyes whenever Blaine makes lasagna or pizza for dinner –- and this restaurant happens to serve the best fettuccine alfredo Blaine has ever tasted.

He wants everything to be a surprise, so he just asks Kurt if he would like to go out next Friday, and Kurt eagerly agrees, only demanding to know what the dress code is. It all goes surprisingly smoothly, and when it’s finally Friday and they leave for the theater, hailing a cab outside the apartment, Blaine half-expects something to go spectacularly wrong.

There will probably be a fire at the theater. Or one of them will choke on a piece of pasta at the restaurant. Things just don’t go this easy in Blaine’s life.

“Where are we going?” Kurt asks once they’re sitting in the cab. He’s wearing dark jeans and a fitting, dark gray jacket he found on one of his outings with Tina, the color making his eyes look even more blue than usually. His hair is swept up, defying gravity –- and isn’t that a fitting description considering the musical they’re going to see?

“It’s a surprise,” Blaine answers, rubbing his hands over his thighs and barely glancing at the city lights they’re passing.

He’s nervous. He was fine an hour ago when they were getting dressed and laughing at the way they both tried to fit into the tiny bathroom at the same time, the air in the apartment smelling like a combination of hairspray and hair gel, Kurt giggling and pressing a quick kiss on his cheek. He was perfectly fine even when he was planning this whole date, but now he’s suddenly nervous, his palms sweating and leg bouncing, heart thumping against his chest in a rhythm that’s too quick to be healthy.

Kurt turns around from where he’s been looking out of the window, narrowing his eyes at Blaine. “What’s wrong? This is only my second time inside these yellow carriage things, so I should be the one looking that nervous, not you.”

Blaine takes a deep breath and forces his knee to stay still. He can do this. He’s been on dates before and he’s always felt comfortable around Kurt. They will be fine.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” he breathes out. He reaches out across the backseat and takes Kurt’s hand, squeezing it. “Are you okay? Not feeling claustrophobic or anything?”

Kurt snorts, bumping Blaine’s shoulder with his own. “Don’t worry about me.” He glances at the driver and then smiles at Blaine. “I’m actually enjoying this ride. Much more pleasant than riding a horse. Less bumpy.”

“You can ride a horse?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs. “Of course I can. Comes with the title.” He peers out of the car window again. “Where are we going? I don’t think I’ve been in this part of the city before.”

“Not with me at least. You haven’t been here with Tina?”

“No, she usually just takes me to thrift stores and to buy fabrics, we haven’t–-” Kurt freezes in the middle of his sentence. “Wait. Hold on.” He turns slowly to face Blaine again. “Why would Tina take me here? Are we-– Oh my god!”

He gasps, eyes widening, and takes Blaine’s hand between his own, clutching it tightly.

“Surprise?” Blaine says, smiling nervously.

“Are we going to a theater?” Kurt squeaks, bouncing on his seat and swinging Blaine’s hand through the air. “We’re going to see a play, aren’t we? Oh my god, Blaine!”

Blaine laughs, tilting forward to peck Kurt’s lips. “We are,” he answers when he leans back again. “I thought you might like that.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” Kurt gushes, shifting restlessly and now peering out of the window with more enthusiasm. “The stories you and Tina have told me are so amazing, and I just can’t-– We have plays as well, of course, but nothing like the musicals we’ve watched and I always thought that seeing one in a theater must be such an experience...” He turns to face Blaine again and slaps his arm. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this sooner! Oh, god, please tell me I’m dressed appropriately.”

“You are. And you look cute when you get all rambly and excited,” Blaine says. He is rewarded with another slap on his arm, but he can see the light blush on Kurt’s cheeks and the smile he’s trying to hide.

“What are we going to see?” Kurt asks. “Is it something I’ve seen as a movie?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, this one hasn’t been turned into a movie yet. But I think you’ll like it. I mean, I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Kurt grins, toothy and wide, the way he doesn’t usually smile around other people. “Are you kidding me? I’m already enjoying this more than I’ve enjoyed anything ever before, and we’re not even there yet!”

When they get to their destination, Kurt can’t seem to stay still, and Blaine gets swept up in his excitement as well. He loves musicals himself, even entertained the idea of applying to Tisch once upon a time, but being with Kurt makes the whole experience even more special. Kurt keeps staring at everything with wide eyes, from the building and the marquee to the other members of the audience and the architecture inside the theater. He holds on to Blaine hand a little too tightly, almost blocking his circulation, and turns to look at him every few seconds as if to say, “did you see that?” He can’t seem to stop bouncing even when they’re finally seated.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here!” he whispers to Blaine, practically vibrating out of his seat and nearly crumpling the playbill he has in his hands. He looks at the stage and squeals. “Blaine! I’m just so–- Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!”

He leans in to hug Blaine over the armrest, laughing into his ear. Blaine closes his eyes for a moment and just breathes in, the nerves from earlier finally dissipating. He’d almost forgotten how amazing it feels like to make someone this happy.

During the play Kurt’s eyes never move away from the stage, his mouth dropped open in awe the entire time. Blaine keeps staring at Kurt, the way his whole face is shining with wonder and amazement, the way silent tears start rolling down his cheeks during _Defying Gravity_. He continues holding on to Kurt’s hand, even if his fingers are a bit numb already. He still remembers the way he felt when he got to see an actual Broadway show for the first time, and he can recognize the same emotions on Kurt’s face.

He keeps thinking that Kurt can’t get any more beautiful than he already is, that it’s just impossible -– but then something like this happens, and it takes his breath away. Kurt does. How he’s so completely focused on the play, on the journey the characters go through, gasping and laughing and crying, looking devastated during the sad scenes and completely joyous during the happy ones. Blaine doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many different expressions cross Kurt’s face in such a short amount of time, and he ends up ignoring most of the play himself, just to see the way Kurt reacts to everything. He thinks it’s worth it. Besides, he’s already seen _Wicked_ himself. What he hasn’t seen before is this side of Kurt. Not with this much enthusiasm.

When they leave the theater hours later, after giving the performance the standing ovation it deserves, Kurt is still holding Blaine’s hand, blinking his eyes slowly as if he’s coming out of a trance. He’s been quiet ever since the curtain call, lost in his thoughts in a way he wasn’t during the play itself. Blaine pulls him away from the bustling crowd and ducks his head to see Kurt’s eyes.

“Kurt?” he asks gently, getting a little worried. “Are you okay? You’re shivering.”

Kurt shakes his head, a tear falling down his cheek all of a sudden. His eyes are staring into the distance over Blaine’s left shoulder. “I never... I never knew something like this even existed,” he breathes out.

Blaine places his hands on Kurt’s arms and moves them up and down, slowly and carefully. “You didn’t?” he prompts, not really understanding what Kurt means.

Kurt shakes his head. “N-no. I just... Kingleysia is great, don’t get me wrong, I love that place because I grew up in it and because my family lives there, but it’s...” He chokes out a wet laugh. “It’s not exactly an easy place for someone who’s different. Someone like Elphaba.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Someone like me.”

Blaine swallows roughly, his hands stilling. He doesn’t know what to say. He still remembers the miserable years he spent in Ohio, never feeling like he fit in until he went to Dalton and found the Warblers –- and even then he could tell that even though they all accepted him, none of them really knew what he was going through.

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest, still not meeting Blaine’s eyes. “So many people in Kingleysia just wouldn’t understand. They’d never understand.”

“Maybe they could understand, Kurt,” Blaine tries. “Prejudice is just ignorance. People can change.”

Kurt shrugs. “Maybe they could for someone else. But not for their prince. N-not for me. They all just want me to marry a pretty princess and rule the country with her, be a king, but I can’t–-”

He shakes his head again, looking away, blinking his eyes too fast. Blaine immediately moves closer, wrapping his arms around Kurt and holding him tightly. There are still people coming out of the theater, talking and laughing loudly just a few feet from them, but he doesn’t care, not when Kurt looks like this.

“I’m so sorry, Kurt,” he says, knowing well that it’s not enough. He can’t change the way Kingleysian people think. But maybe his embrace can convey the things he doesn’t know how to say out loud.

“I can be myself here,” Kurt goes on, his voice breaking. He clings to Blaine, his fingers digging into Blaine’s back like he never wants to let go. “Here, in New York. I can sketch clothes and wear whatever I want and style my hair the way I want to. I can think about myself, about my dreams, and not just about the kingdom and what it needs. I can–-” He sniffles, letting out a shuddery breath against Blaine’s shoulder. “I can love whoever I want. I don’t have to be afraid.”

 _Love_. The word should make Blaine freeze, but it doesn’t. He closes his eyes, thinking of his first months in New York, what it was like for him to finally get out and have the chance to be himself. Thinks about his life now, how much he has sacrificed to keep his heart safe. He and Kurt are both afraid, have been for a long time, and somehow that makes him feel so much closer to Kurt, if that’s even possible anymore.

“It feels like you can finally breathe,” he says quietly, “doesn’t it?”

Kurt leans away in surprise, staring at his face. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “It feels like I can finally breathe.” He looks like he can’t quite believe someone else understands it. “Like I can finally break free and–-” He giggles all of a sudden, breathless and wet. “Like I’m defying gravity?” he says with a lilt in his voice.

Blaine lets out a laugh. “I guess I made the right choice then.” Then he sobers, searching Kurt’s face. “Or did I? I didn’t want to upset you, I just thought–-”

Kurt immediately shakes his head with a smile, lifting one of his hands to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. “No, no, you made the perfect choice. That was amazing, Blaine. The story and the music and the costumes. Everything.” He looks towards the thinning crowd near the entrance and smiles. “It just made me think how lucky I was to come here.” He turns to look at Blaine. “How lucky I was to find you.”

Blaine ducks his head, playing with the lapel of Kurt’s jacket. His heart feels too full, bursting at the seams. He can’t remember ever feeling like this with Connor, not even during the good times. He can feel Kurt’s eyes on him, comfortable and caring, and it takes him a while to find his words again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says eventually, rocking on his heels. “I, um, made a reservation at a restaurant, if you feel up to it after this emotional rollercoaster? Or we... We can just go home if that’s something you’d prefer.”

God, he’s flustered. He can’t remember ever being this flustered with Connor either.

Kurt straightens his back and takes a deep breath. “That depends,” he says slowly. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

Blaine lifts his head and sees the teasing, light-hearted smile on Kurt’s face, and can’t help but smile himself.

“Now, be honest,” Kurt demands, gesturing at his face. “Are my eyes red? Is my face blotchy? Because I can’t be seen in public looking like that.”

“You look beautiful, Kurt,” Blaine answers. He holds out his hand for Kurt, and Kurt takes it without a moment’s hesitation.

“Flatterer,” he mutters, but looks pleased all the same. “Food?”

“Food,” Blaine repeats and starts leading them towards the restaurant, swinging their connected hands as they walk.

They’re halfway through dinner, both of them moaning almost pornographically over their fettuccine alfredo, when Kurt suddenly stops, delicately wipes his mouth and then crosses his arms over the table with a pensive look in his eyes.

“Blaine,” he says.

Blaine swallows the pasta he has in his mouth. “... Yes?”

“This is a date, isn’t it?” Kurt asks, tilting his head.

Blaine blinks. Feels his heart start to beat faster. Looks at Kurt and takes a leap. “Yes.”

Kurt’s face breaks into the most beautiful smile Blaine has ever seen. “Good,” he replies, reaching for his utensils again. “I was hoping for that.”

 

\---

 

“That was the best date I’ve ever been on,” Kurt declares when they step inside the apartment, Blaine closing the door behind them. Kurt spins around to face Blaine, clicking his heels together. “Though I have to admit that it was also the first and only date I’ve ever been on,” he adds, grinning.

Blaine smiles back at him. “We can always have more dates?”

“I’d like that.” Kurt steps closer and winds his arms around Blaine. “I’d like that very much.”

He leans in, pressing his lips softly against Blaine’s, and Blaine hums, responding to the kiss and letting his own hands slide down Kurt’s sides until they reach his waist. He can feel Kurt smiling into the kiss, his arms around Blaine’s neck bringing him closer, so close that their bodies are completely pressed together. Blaine’s eyes flutter shut. Kurt is firm and warm against him, and if he focuses, if he imagines a little, he can almost feel Kurt’s heartbeat through the fabrics of their clothes, thumping against his own chest like a reminder of how real this is.

He tilts his head, giving Kurt better access, and Kurt immediately licks into his mouth, tentatively but getting bolder with every second. His hands are pulling and sliding and pushing, grabbing the back of Blaine’s shirt, desperate and urgent. Blaine gasps, throwing his head back from all the sudden feelings, the warmth running through his body, the familiar tingle of arousal pulsing through his veins and making him feel like he’s vibrating out of his own skin. Kurt’s lips immediately move down to his jaw, kissing the line of it and sucking at the sensitive skin near his ears.

“K-Kurt...” Blaine tries, moving his hands to Kurt’s shoulders. He’s getting hard so fast that it’s making him feel dizzy, like he can’t think straight. It’s been a while since he’s had another man this close, but it’s not just that –- it’s Kurt, the way he feels and the way he makes Blaine feel, the searching and exploring way his hands glide over Blaine’s body, touching his back and his upper thighs, the heat behind his kisses.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Kurt says in a quiet voice, nuzzling his nose against Blaine’s jaw and pressing another kiss to his neck.

“Kurt, we should–-” Blaine blinks his eyes several times, trying to clear his head. “W-we should stop, okay?”

Kurt pulls away, meeting Blaine’s eyes, and god –- his cheeks are flushed, his lips red from all the kisses, and his eyes are so wide, as if there’s a fire burning behind them, and Blaine swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Did I–- Oh my god, was that too fast?” Kurt asks, moving his hands to a less compromising place. “Did I read this all wrong, or-–”

“No, Kurt, no, trust me, that was...” Blaine shakes his head, trying to come up with a good word for what just happened. “That was amazing, believe me –- I can’t believe you just did that, but I... I think we should slow down. Don’t you?”

Kurt tilts his head. “Slow down?”

“Yeah.” Blaine nods. He looks down, straightening the lapels of Kurt’s jacket. He must have been pulling at them at some point. “You don’t have to... I mean, I don’t want to push you into anything. I’m good with the way things are.”

Kurt purses his lips. “But... you’d be good with more as well?”

Blaine lifts his head, feeling tongue-tied all of a sudden. “I... Y-yes, of course. I want you. Of course I do. But we don’t have to do anything, Kurt. We don’t have to rush or-–”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts him with a grin. “You don’t have to be so careful with me. Though I do appreciate it. It’s nice.” He pecks Blaine’s lips, letting the kiss linger for a few seconds before he pulls back. “But the thing is... I want you too. Quite a lot, actually.”

Blaine stares at him. The air feels thick around them. “You mean...?”

Kurt’s smile softens. He leans forward again, capturing Blaine’s lips in a slow and heated kiss, carefully pulling him closer. Their hips get pushed together with the movement, and suddenly Blaine can feel Kurt against him, just as hard as he is, and he gasps again, his hands automatically reaching for Kurt’s arms for balance.

“See?” Kurt whispers against his lips.

Blaine surges forward, closing the short distance between their mouths with his heart pounding inside his chest. He can feel Kurt’s hands pulling him even closer, trailing over the curve of his back and lower, even lower still.

“You’re sure?” Blaine asks breathlessly. He kisses Kurt’s neck, and Kurt shivers against him.

“Bedroom?” Kurt replies, already maneuvering them towards the door.

Blaine lets out a laugh, burying his face in Kurt’s chest for a moment before he continues finding just the right spots on Kurt’s (still long, still so beautiful) neck. “Not the sofa bed?”

Kurt giggles but keeps kissing every inch of Blaine’s face he can reach. “Takes too much time to open it, to be honest.”

They stumble into the bedroom in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter. Putting any distance between himself and Kurt feels impossible suddenly, as if Blaine wouldn’t be able to breathe properly if he stopped kissing Kurt, stopped running his hands over Kurt’s body. Kurt is already pulling at his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, his hands sneaking underneath it, heated against Blaine’s skin. Blaine pushes at Kurt’s jacket in answer, practically pawing at it, until Kurt lets go of him for the few seconds that it takes for him to shrug it off, immediately moving in close again once it falls to the floor.

It takes some time, between their need to stay close and keep kissing, but eventually Blaine kicks off his jeans, both of them in their underwear now, and then falls on the bed, pulling Kurt with him. They bounce against the mattress, laughing again, Kurt’s nose bumping against Blaine’s cheek, but then suddenly they’re face to face, breathing heavily, and they both just... _stop_ , staring at each other through the dim lighting of the room.

Kurt’s hair is a mess from where Blaine’s hands have been running through it, and Blaine can feel his own hair breaking free from the gel as well. He reaches out a hand, trailing his fingertips over Kurt’s cheek, down his neck and over his chest, letting his gaze follow. He’s seen glimpses of this before, in the tiny bathroom in the mornings or when he’s slept next to Kurt in the nights, but he has never seen this much. He’s never seen this much pale skin; seen the defined angles of Kurt’s collarbones, the faint dusting of light brown hair over his body, the lean muscles on his arms and chest, the curve of his waist, and the quiver in Kurt’s stomach when Blaine’s fingertips move slowly against his skin. He smiles, glancing up at Kurt and finding him watching his expression.

“Ticklish?” he asks.

“Didn’t know I was,” Kurt answers quietly. His thumb is stroking over Blaine’s hip, slowly and hesitantly.

Blaine flattens his palm against Kurt’s chest, over his heart, and now he doesn’t even have to imagine –- he can feel it beating under his hand, steady and alive. A faint blush is spreading down Kurt’s neck, coloring his skin, and Blaine smiles again. He cranes his neck and kisses Kurt’s collarbone, just a small touch of his lips, and Kurt trembles above him.

“You’re beautiful, Kurt,” he whispers. Because he is. It’s the absolute truth; it encompasses everything Blaine is feeling at this moment, and not saying it out loud would be like betraying himself and Kurt at the same time.

Kurt looks away, a small, overwhelmed smile on his face. “You’re not so bad yourself either,” he says.

Blaine fits his hand on Kurt’s hip, two of his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear. “Not so bad, huh?” he jokes.

Kurt turns to look at him again, grinning. “What do you want me to say, then? That I’ve been ogling you for weeks already? That I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a heart attack now that I’ve seen you up close?” He widens his eyes dramatically.

Blaine snorts. “That’s makes two of us, then.” He slowly moves his hand to push Kurt’s underwear lower. “Can I...?”

Kurt blinks and swallows, looking a little nervous. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry,” Blaine says, taking Kurt’s hand and guiding it to his own underwear. He keeps his eyes on Kurt’s, and smiles. “I’m nervous too.”

Kurt takes a breath and smiles back.

They slowly pull each other’s underwear off, throwing them somewhere towards the floor, and when they’re finally completely naked Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt, kissing him again, deep and slow. They both gasp and still when their bodies shift closer, all that skin suddenly touching everywhere and sending sparks of electricity running through Blaine’s body.

“I don’t know–-” Kurt pants, mouth open against Blaine’s lips. “How do I–-”

“Just like this,” Blaine breathes out, pulling Kurt even closer until they’re completely pressed against each other, the head of Kurt’s cock nudging at Blaine’s stomach. He shifts on the bed and lifts his legs until he can wrap them around Kurt’s waist, roll his hips upwards and hear the way Kurt’s breath shudders out of him. “L-like this,” he breathes out.

“Oh my god.” Kurt responds to his movement, burying his face in Blaine’s shoulder and mouthing at his sweaty skin. His arms slide underneath Blaine’s back and shoulders, holding him still as he moves. Blaine’s hands scrabble against Kurt’s back, holding on as Kurt finds a rhythm, pushing and rolling, his hips stuttering. Someone is whining, low and urgent, and it takes Blaine a moment to realize that the sound is coming from his own throat.

Kurt keeps trembling, like he’s barely holding himself together, and Blaine closes his eyes and tilts his head back, focuses on the sensations of Kurt’s flushed skin moving against his own, the sweat sliding between their bodies, the shift of Kurt’s back muscles under his hands. It’s amazing; it’s more than anything Blaine has felt before. He feels connected and safe and loved, like he can trust Kurt with everything –- even with his heart, with all the cracks in it and all the fissures he has tried to cover up. With his confused feelings, all the wrong choices he has made and all the mistakes.

“C-can I–-?” Kurt asks all of a sudden, one of his hands already wandering down Blaine’s chest and stomach. Blaine blinks and then nods shakily, trying to remember how to breathe again. Kurt takes a breath and then slowly wraps his fingers around their cocks, testing the weight and feel of them until he brings them closer together. “L-like that?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, pushing into the tunnel of Kurt’s hand. It’s a little dry, a little too much, but then Kurt moves his hand and suddenly it’s _perfect_ , both of them moaning out loud once Kurt finds a rhythm. It’s erratic and desperate, but it’s still a rhythm. An amazing rhythm.

Sex has never felt like this before for Blaine. There has always been some amount of distance or disconnection, something missing even though he hasn’t been able to pinpoint what it is. He can feel Kurt kissing his neck, surprisingly tenderly, as if he’s thanking him for something, for existing maybe, and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, feeling something wet that feels suspiciously like tears sliding down his cheek. Just then Kurt lifts up, rolling his hips from a different angle as he twists his hand, and Blaine’s eyes snap open with the force of the moan that breaks out of him.

“B-Blaine?”

Kurt is staring at him, his hips still moving with little, aborted movements even though he’s obviously trying to stay still, his grip loosening; his hair sweaty and his eyes worried.

“I’m fine,” Blaine gasps out, pulling Kurt closer again. “K-keep going, Kurt, please, I’m–- just–-”

Kurt blinks and then leans down to kiss him, slow and sweet despite the way his body is getting more urgent again. His lips trail over the wet tear tracks on Blaine’s cheek, kissing them away, and Blaine closes his eyes again, his heart feeling too full all of a sudden.

He loves this man. He loves Kurt. He loves him so much that he doesn’t know how he can handle it.

“Blaine,” Kurt breathes out, his voice so full of wonder, “Blaine, I’m not–-”

“Come on,” Blaine urges, rolling his own hips against Kurt’s, “come on, it’s okay, come on–-”

Kurt’s hips stutter to a stop, his mouth opening in a silent moan against Blaine’s shoulder as his whole body tightens up –- and then he comes, gasping out Blaine’s name one more time, and Blaine follows him, lets all the tension in his body break out as his cock pulses in Kurt’s hand, the amazing feeling rolling over his whole body, from his head to his toes.

Kurt collapses against him, breathing heavily. They’re messy and sweaty, but Kurt doesn’t seem to mind, placing a tired kiss on Blaine’s shoulder once he’s gotten some of his breath back. Blaine wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Kurt’s hair and breathing out slowly, trying to get his own heartbeat back in control again.

“That was...” Kurt breathes. “That was just... _wow_.” Then he lets out a tired giggle. “God, what a lame expression, but I’m guessing you get the point.”

Blaine smiles and kisses Kurt’s hair. “You okay?”

“I’m better than okay.” Kurt lifts his head and shifts on the bed until he can prop his chin up on Blaine’s chest. “Are you?” He reaches out a hand, gently brushing his fingers over Blaine’s cheek, his eyes soft. “I didn’t–- I mean, you’re not–-”

“I’m good,” Blaine interrupts him. “I’m better than good, really. It was just... so much.” He doesn’t know how else to describe it. He’s not ready to say it out loud, not yet, not now, but he has to say something. “I’m really happy right now,” he finishes, feeling a little silly.

Kurt smiles, tender and relaxed. “Me too. That was a very good first time.” He looks at Blaine, his eyes shining, and the intensity of the emotions in his gaze makes Blaine feel like he could do anything.

Kurt looks at him like he’s something important, something precious and worth loving.

“I’m so glad it was you,” Kurt adds, nosing the curve of Blaine’s neck.

Blaine blinks, feeling the pressure of overwhelmed tears behind his eyes again. He loves Kurt. The feeling is like a rush of air in his lungs after being underwater for too long; like finding the perfect last notes for a melody he’s been working on for weeks. He never felt like this with Connor, even though he thought he did, and he certainly didn’t feel like this with Nathan, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’m so glad it was you too,” he breathes out. He shifts on the bed until he can cuddle Kurt properly, and Kurt follows easily, humming with pleasure as Blaine throws his leg over Kurt’s thighs, ignoring the mess of come and sweat on their bodies.

“Thank you for today,” Kurt murmurs, bending down to kiss Blaine one more time, lazily moving his lips against Blaine’s. He pulls back after a long moment, adjusting their position until they’re both comfortable on the bed. “Today was the best day I’ve ever had,” he sighs happily.

Blaine hides his smile against Kurt’s chest, holding on tightly because he feels like he could float away if he let go of Kurt right now. “Same here,” he whispers.

Kurt only hums in response, already half-asleep, and Blaine closes his eyes, focusing on the rise and fall of Kurt’s chest under his head.

Just before he falls asleep, he can’t help but wonder if this is what true love feels like.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At laaaaaast, the next chapter has come along~
> 
>  **Warning** for something that can definitely be considered as emotional abuse in a previous romantic relationship. Message me here or on Tumblr if you're worried and want to know more!

It must be pretty late already when Kurt finally wakes up. The bedroom is bathed in sunlight, and he blinks his eyes against it, letting out a small yawn. The bed feels so warm and comfortable that he wouldn’t mind just going back to sleep, but he should probably go to the bathroom first, before his bladder starts to feel unbearable.

He stretches his legs and arms, enjoying the way his muscles feel tired in a way he hasn’t really experienced before, careful not to jostle the person in bed with him. Blaine is curled up on his side, one of his arms slung over Kurt’s stomach and one of his legs slotted between Kurt’s. He’s snuffling a little –- a sound that can’t really be called snoring, it’s so quiet and discreet, but Kurt finds it rather adorable in any case. Blaine’s eyelashes are fanned out over his cheeks, his curls a mess of yesterday’s gel and a very bad case of bedhead, and Kurt just has to stop and stare at him for a moment, feeling a giddy grin spreading over his face.

Blaine is naked under the covers. _Naked_. He is practically plastered against Kurt, all that skin right there within Kurt’s reach, and Kurt knows now what Blaine looks like without all the jeans and polo shirts and cardigans he wears during the day. He knows what Blaine’s body feels like, knows how soft his skin is under his own hands and how coarse the hairs on Blaine’s chest are in contrast. Knows the strength of Blaine’s arms and thighs in an intimate way, and what he looks and feels like when he comes.

Kurt has so many reasons for a giddy grin right now.

He lifts Blaine’s arm from his chest and places it gently under the covers as he slides out of bed, shivering when the cool air of the apartment hits his own bare skin. The faster he goes to the bathroom, the sooner he can come back to bed, but he just has to take one more look at Blaine, the giddy grin softening when Blaine burrows deeper into the covers without the heat of Kurt’s body to keep him warm. But the cool air really does not feel that pleasant, so Kurt slips out of the room completely naked, tiptoeing quietly across the hall into the bathroom. He can’t be bothered to put on any clothes or even underwear right now.

When he’s done his business he splashes some water on his face, and stops to take a look at himself in the mirror. His own hair isn’t faring much better than Blaine’s, with strands of it pointing in every direction, the magic that has kept it impeccable long gone by now -– but he doesn’t really mind. He looks like he’s glowing in a way he hasn’t before, even though he knows it’s kind of ridiculous to think like that. But he does look... happier. More content. More sure of himself, of his own body. Like he has found something new in himself, something that has been there all along but has just been smothered by other people’s expectations.

There’s a small purplish bruise low on his neck, shaped almost like a circle and most likely caused by all the desperate sucking kisses Blaine planted on his skin last night. Kurt presses his finger against the mark and smiles at its dull, delicious ache.

He feels so very alive right now.

When he slips quietly underneath the covers again a few minutes later, Blaine is still asleep. Kurt pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around his warm body, and Blaine mumbles something unintelligible in response. Kurt can feel his lips curving into a lazy smile against his chest.

“Morning,” he whispers in sing-song, sliding his hand up and down Blaine’s naked back. So much skin, and he finally has the permission to touch it. It’s exhilarating.

Blaine stirs, shifting slowly in Kurt’s embrace. He smacks his lips and then presses a sleepy kiss on Kurt’s collarbone.

“Are you even actually awake yet?” Kurt laughs, scratching his fingers through Blaine’s curls.

“Mmm.” Blaine pulls his head back and blinks his eyes open. “Hi,” he says, voice low and gravelly, thick with sleep. His face breaks into a smile as soon as he sees Kurt.

“Hi,” Kurt replies softly. He just has to lean in and kiss Blaine’s lips, but Blaine only furrows his brows and mumbles something against his mouth, not responding to the kiss. “What?” Kurt asks.

“Morning breath,” Blaine repeats, petting at Kurt’s side in apology. “Not a very pleasant thing.”

“I really don’t care,” Kurt points out and brushes his lips over Blaine’s one more time to prove it.

Blaine hums again, arching his body against Kurt’s. He’s all compact muscles and sun-kissed skin, and Kurt wants to kiss every inch of him.

“Why’d you stop scratching my head?” Blaine says through a yawn. “Felt nice.”

Kurt laughs and buries his fingers deeper into Blaine’s hair. “Sorry.” He smiles as Blaine’s eyes slip closed again. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Kurt can’t keep the excitement contained anymore.

“So last night was...” he starts.

“Amazing,” Blaine breathes out and opens his eyes with a dazzling smile. He slides his hand over Kurt’s side, the touch both gentle and arousing, and pulls him closer. “You’re amazing.”

Kurt ducks his head, hoping to hide the bright red blush that must be all over his face. “Are you always this sappy after you’ve had sex?” he teases, not knowing what else to say.

Blaine goes quiet, and when Kurt looks up again he notices that Blaine is staring at him, as if he’s considering or marveling at something, his expression both serious and curious at the same time. Kurt blinks in confusion, and then suddenly Blaine’s eyes seem to focus on his face properly, his thumb stroking over the tender skin of Kurt’s back.

“No,” Blaine answers quietly. “I’m not.”

Kurt swallows. He feels a bit lost with of the way Blaine is looking at him, all loving and tender and amazed. No one has ever looked at him like that before. Blaine has given him so many of his firsts already, and he would happily hand over all the rest of them to him as well.

“O-oh,” he stutters. “W-well, I’m glad I can... that I can make you sappy?” he tries.

Blaine huffs out an amused laugh and turns to lie on his back, pulling Kurt with him until Kurt is resting his chin on Blaine’s chest. Kurt watches as Blaine lifts his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, the movement making the covers over him slip lower, exposing the lines of his hip bones, and it’s all just so effortlessly sexy that Kurt is _this_ close to suggesting a round two and a day spent in bed doing nothing else.

“Well?” Blaine asks, squinting his eyes at him in the sunlight. There’s a grin playing on his lips. “How do you feel now that you’ve officially and unquestionably had sex?”

Kurt snorts. “I feel great, thank you.” He settles more comfortably against Blaine. “And it’s actually kind of exciting to break Kingleysian traditions as well, to be honest,” he adds a little giddily.

Blaine raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“We don’t usually have sex until marriage,” Kurt explains, reaching out a hand to play with the short hairs on Blaine’s chest. Now that he can and is allowed, it’s practically impossible to stop touching Blaine. “But then again, we do also get married pretty much right away once we’ve met our true love, so it isn’t that long a wait. But still.”

“Oh.” Blaine suddenly goes tense. “Is that...” He stops and swallows. “I mean, does that bother you? That you had sex before marriage?”

Kurt looks up at him, furrowing his brows. “No? Like I said, it’s kind of exciting.” He shrugs as well as he can in his position, trying to think of a way that would describe his feelings as well as possible. “It feels like... New York, you know? And we are in New York, not in Kingleysia.”

And sometimes this place feels so much more like home and like where I’m supposed to be than Kingleysia ever did, he adds inside his head. Saying it out loud would almost feel like a slight betrayal to Kingleysia and his dad, to everything and everyone he has grown up with; and besides, they’re talking about how he’s feeling, not which place to call home. That conversation can come later. If it comes. He kind of hopes it does, at least in some way. Though it would be nice if he could somehow include his dad in that conversation as well, if and when Rachel gets the connection between their worlds working again.

Blaine stays quiet after his explanation, and his expression looks troubled. Kurt tries to meet his eyes, but he just keeps staring stubbornly at the ceiling, even when Kurt pokes gently at his ribs to get his attention.

“Blaine? Why on earth would you think that having sex before marriage would bother me?” he asks, curious.

Blaine sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be something that... that you-–” He trails off and swallows again.

“Something that what?” Kurt asks, reaching out and taking one of Blaine’s hands in his, needing the connection.

“Something that you’ll regret one day?” Blaine says quickly, making it sound like a question. “I don’t know, I just–-”

He starts to shift away from Kurt and the warmth of the blanket, but Kurt pulls him back.

“Hey, hey, Blaine, no,” he hastens to say. “Don’t be ridiculous. I could never regret anything about you. _Never_.”

Blaine looks at him, finally, and his eyes are shining in the sunlight. Kurt can’t tell if it’s just from the bright light coming in from the window or if there’s something more to it, but he shuffles closer to Blaine on the bed anyway, craning his neck until he can press his lips against his in a deep kiss, morning breath be damned.

Blaine makes a small, surprised sound at the back of his throat, but then he soon responds to the kiss. He clings to Kurt and pushes closer, as if he’s desperate for him, his fingers digging into Kurt’s skin. Kurt closes his eyes and holds him tightly, trying to put everything he feels and is too afraid to say yet into the kiss, trying to let Blaine know through the kiss alone that he’s pretty sure Blaine _is_ his true love, that there couldn’t possibly be anyone else for Kurt but him, that somehow, despite their own differences, despite the huge differences between New York and Kingleysia, despite the place where they started, they found each other, and Kurt can’t imagine ever letting him go.

It’s scary. It’s huge. It’s so very complicated.

But it’s how he feels.

“You know-–” Kurt says quietly once they’ve broken apart, both of them breathing a little heavily and Kurt’s eyes still closed to savor the feeling of Blaine’s lips against his, “-–when I was younger and told my dad that I’m–- that I’m gay... there’s this one thing he used to tell me whenever he could tell that I was feeling particularly lonely.”

He pauses and opens his eyes. Blaine is staring back at him, his lips kissed red, and nods for him to go on. His fingers are still pressed against the skin of Kurt’s back.

“He used to tell me that... that until I find someone as brave and as full of love as me, I’m just going to have to get used to going it alone.” Kurt cups Blaine’s cheek in his hand and strokes his thumb over his stubble, hoping his smile isn’t quite as watery as it feels like. “And when I’m with you, Blaine, I–- I never feel alone or lonely in any way.”

Blaine blinks his eyes, and now they’re definitely shining with something wet. “Kurt, I–-” He lets out a wet laugh, leaning into Kurt’s touch. “I honestly don’t know if I’m as brave as you,” he confesses.

“But you are,” Kurt argues fiercely. “You are _so_ brave. You’ve been hurt so badly, but you’ve still kept trying. You haven’t given up on love, no matter what you say. You tried so hard with Nathan, even though it didn’t feel right, and now you’re trying so incredibly hard with me, even if you’re scared and nervous.” He keeps his eyes on Blaine. “Isn’t that what bravery is? Trying your best even though you’re scared and have been hurt before?”

“I’ve never really thought of it like that”, Blaine admits in a tearful voice. “I’ve just... I just thought that I gave up.” He blinks his eyes again, a lone tear slipping down his cheek and hitting Kurt’s thumb. “I gave up on who I am. I mean, I don’t even know what I’m doing most of the time these days. I just pretend like I do, and hope for the best.”

“But that’s what everyone else is doing as well,” Kurt counters. “That’s what I feel like I’m doing most of the time anyway. I don’t think anyone’s an expert in the matters of the heart. Not even anyone in Kingleysia, though we’d certainly like to think that we are.” He rolls his eyes to emphasize the last point, thinking of Rachel’s endless lectures about “the true nature of love” and “how to recognize soulmates”. She does love her lectures.

Blaine breathes out shakily and rubs a hand over his face. “He... He called me a coward when we broke up, you know.”

Kurt frowns, coming back to the here and now. “Who, Nathan?”

“No,” Blaine says. His hand flops back down on the bed. “Connor.”

Kurt stills. It’s the first time he’s heard Blaine mention Connor’s name like this –- without an awkward pause before it, without the usual clench of his jaw; with resignation instead of an audible strain in his voice. Blaine is staring at the ceiling again, his eyes somewhere far away, and Kurt is almost afraid to ask him to go on. He has never really forgotten that first day in the park, when Blaine was crumbling in front of him and he had no idea what to do.

Except things have changed since then, haven’t they? He knows what to do now.

“Why would he call you a coward?” he asks carefully, moving his hand away from Blaine’s cheek and continuing the slow stroke of his thumb over Blaine’s chest instead, as if he’s trying to soothe his heart.

Blaine takes a harsh, quick breath through his nose. “He, um... Technically he called me a ‘delusional coward’, because I, quote unquote, ‘refused to see the world and the people in it for what they really are’.”

Kurt’s throat goes dry. “I don’t-–”

“We were together for a long time, you know,” Blaine interrupts, the words suddenly spilling out of him. “We met during my freshman year of college, and after only a few months of dating we were already living together, buying groceries together and sleeping in the same bed.” He blinks his eyes a few times, as if he’s fighting against tears. “I was _so_ convinced that I had found the one. He made me laugh so hard -– he had this really dry sense of humor, and he told hilarious stories, and I-– no one had ever looked at me the way he _looked_ at me, like he was hungry for me or something, and for those few years, I was... so, so happy.”

He pauses and loses the fight, a few more tears spilling over and down his cheeks.

“I... I thought I was going to marry him,” Blaine confesses, his voice going so tight that it’s close to breaking. “Bought the ring and everything.”

Kurt’s heart clenches inside his chest, sudden and painful, as if someone is squeezing it with their bare hands. Every fiber of him is screaming to soothe Blaine, to make him feel better, to pull him closer and tell him that he doesn’t have to go on, to stop the tears, no matter what it takes. It’s just like when Blaine and Nathan broke up, but the urge is even stronger now, like a physical pull that he has to fight against.

But he does have to fight against it. He can tell that right now Blaine doesn’t need taking care of -– he just needs someone to listen to him. So Kurt bites his lip and keeps his eyes on Blaine, keeps his arms around Blaine’s body, and lets him speak.

“In retrospect, I probably should’ve noticed something was wrong earlier,” Blaine goes on, his eyes blinking more quickly now. “B-but I was in love, for the first time in my life, and I just... I think I became so blind to everything that was going wrong with us, you know? I was always the only one doing the romantic gestures, big or small, and though Connor usually said that he appreciated them, he-– he never did anything in return, and I just thought that okay, it’s not his thing, that’s okay, that’s just who he is. And everything he did wrong, all the snide comments and the dates he missed and the late nights he spent studying or partying with his friends without letting me know... I convinced myself that that was just who he was as well. That he needed more space than I did, and it was okay, because he always came back to me.”

He pauses to take a breath, and Kurt just has to ask. “You mean snide comments... about you?” He’s almost scared to hear the answer.

“Yeah,” Blaine sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Me, or my friends, or my work, or... anything, really, every now and then. I-- I do know by now that it was definitely not okay and I shouldn’t have put up with it, but... Back then, I just didn’t realize. Connor was really good at being charming when he wanted or needed to be.”

Kurt stares at him. “And you were going to _marry_ him?” He tries to say it in a neutral voice, but the fear and horror must seep through as well. Just the mental image of Blaine -– sweet, kind Blaine who stops to ask if some stranger talking to a street sign is okay and who just wants to make art and help people –- being married to a jerk like that is making his heart grow cold with dread. He can’t even imagine it without feeling sick to his stomach.

Blaine lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I was. That’s actually when everything finally fell apart, so I should probably be grateful for buying that stupid engagement ring so soon and not a few years later...”

He trails off and lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, looking tired all of a sudden. His cheeks are already a little splotchy and his eyes red, and Kurt’s protective urges flare up all over again.

“Do you... Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks cautiously. Maybe he misjudged the situation; maybe Blaine needs something else after all. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to-–”

He starts to pull away, thinking that Blaine might want some more space, but Blaine grabs his arm and stops him.

“N-no, I–- I want to tell you,” he says, decisive and almost a little desperate. “I need someone to understand. I need _you_ to understand.”

“Okay.” Kurt gives a small smile and fits himself against Blaine again, pulling the covers higher so that they’re both as warm and comfortable as they can be. “Okay. I’m here.”

Blaine nods and then lets go of his arm, still keeping him close. He takes another deep, shaky breath and blinks his eyes at the ceiling a few times, as if he’s trying to organize his thoughts.

“It was... one night, when we went out together,” he starts, his words slow. “I had this whole elaborate plan of serenading him in public and then asking him to marry me and us riding into the sunset together or something equally ridiculous. But I... I was so excited about it that I just couldn’t hold it in anymore, so I told him that I was going to sing to him because I had something important to tell him, and he just–- He just grabbed my arm and stopped me, and said that he... Um. That he didn’t want to hear me sing. That he had heard enough of it.”

“But you have an amazing voice,” Kurt says quietly, thinking of Blaine singing at the community center, his face alight with happiness, his voice so soft and comforting, like the touch of Blaine’s hands in musical form or like a drizzle of honey on warm toast.

Blaine shrugs. “He didn’t like it. Never did, really. Anyway, we, um, we left immediately and came back to our apartment, and I was still thinking that I would propose to him, like the clueless idiot that I was, but when I... When I actually took the ring out, Connor... He laughed. He thought I was joking.”

Kurt holds him a little tighter and swallows against the lump in his own throat.

“He told me that... that I wasn’t actually the only guy he was seeing,” Blaine says quietly.

“ _What_?” Kurt gasps out in shock.

“Yeah, he–- he’d been sleeping around the whole time we’d been together, and the only reason he had stayed with me was because I was... I think ‘convenient’ was the word he used? It was convenient to share the living expenses, convenient to have someone waiting for him. He couldn’t believe that I was so naïve that I had actually thought we had something serious.” Blaine lets out a bitter laugh, the sound making Kurt’s heart clench all over again. “That I would just close my eyes from what the world is really like and believe in something as stupid as real love. Hence the comment about me being a... ‘delusional coward’.”

“What happened then?” Kurt asks, desperately hoping that the story isn’t going get any worse but somehow knowing that his hopes are in vain.

“Well, we argued and yelled the whole night, and in the end he just... walked out. I had put so much faith in him, had basically planned my whole life around him and tried my best to make the relationship work, but suddenly he was just–-  _gone_ , and I realized that I had been so desperate to have an epic love story that I’d ignored all the warning signs, all the reality checks and the way people like Connor treated relationships. Do you... Do you know what his last words to me were?” Blaine blinks his eyes and pitches his voice lower and harsher, as if to imitate someone else. “He said, ‘If you keep living in this delusion of sunshine and rainbows and true love, Blaine, you will only end up even more alone than you already are.’” His voice breaks. “‘So g-good luck with t-that.’”

His face crumples right after the last word has left his lips, the tears falling freely from his eyes, and he tries to lift his hands to hide them, as if he doesn’t want anyone to see him cry. Kurt makes a noise at the back of his throat and pulls him closer, gently rearranging their bodies on the bed until they’re in a sitting position and he can hold Blaine properly, his hands stroking his shaking back and his lips brushing comforting kisses in Blaine’s hair. Blaine clings to him, his tears soaking Kurt’s skin, but he doesn’t make a noise -– just cries and tries to catch his breath, holding onto Kurt as if he would break apart without him there, as if he has no voice left.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kurt whispers urgently. He can feel the wetness in his own eyes as well, the tears threatening to break free, but he blinks them away. “I’m here, Blaine, it’s okay, I’m here. Just let it out.”

He always knew that Connor must’ve done something awful to hurt Blaine this badly, to make him so afraid of opening up –- but he could’ve never imagined this. There isn’t something like this in Kingleysia. There’s no cheating, no people who treat relationships and other people like a joke, or even if there are, Kurt has never met any of them and has only read about them in the old stories where people like that are always the villain, the fantastical bad force that seems too evil to be nothing more than a representation of something else.

He can’t even imagine what going through something like that must feel like. He has no experience of it, no knowledge of things like this actually happening. He can only hold Blaine, and hope that it helps at least a little.

Blaine hiccups and then snorts, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I-I’m sorry, this is a mess.” He takes a breath, his tears slowing down. “ _I’m_ a mess.”

Kurt pets his hair and presses a kiss on his temple. “You’re not. You haven’t seen my ugly crying. That is a mess, trust me,” he jokes feebly.

Blaine squeaks out a laugh, just like Kurt hoped he would, and buries his face in Kurt’s chest. “Don’t lie, I bet you look gorgeous even when you’re ugly crying,” he says, the words muffled against Kurt’s skin.

“Flatterer,” Kurt replies softly and tugs at Blaine’s arms until he straightens his back a little. “Are you okay?” he asks seriously.

Blaine takes another deep breath and wipes at his eyes with his hands. “Yeah, it’s just... I’ve never really told the whole story to anyone. Tina knows most of it, of course, and my... One of my professors noticed that I was going through a rough time after it all went down, and she practically forced me to go talk to someone in the student mental health services, and it helped, a lot, but I never... I never told it all to anyone.”

Kurt frowns and ducks his head to catch Blaine’s eyes. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine admits. “I guess I was... ashamed, I think? That I’d been so stupid and blind. Made a fool of myself.”

“You didn’t,” Kurt says immediately. “You weren’t stupid, Blaine; he was. I mean, how could he treat you like that? How could he be so dishonest with you, and cruel, and-– He was _horrible_ to you, Blaine, and took advantage of your trust. That’s not your fault.”

Blaine shrugs, playing with the edge of the blanket, his eyes on his hands. “It just hurt so much, you know -– to realize that I’d been basically living a lie for all those years and planning my life around someone who was never going to love me back. It felt stupid.”

“Blaine.” Kurt places his finger under Blaine’s chin and gently tips his face up. “You were hurt by someone you loved. Hurt in an awful way. That does not make you stupid.”

He gets it now. He gets why Tina is so protective of Blaine, why Blaine fought against everything for so long, why he acted the way he did with Nathan, why he said that he stopped singing outside his work. It all makes sense, and he can’t believe that some... some miserable _asshole_ dared to hurt Blaine that badly, to make him retreat and change who he is just so he wouldn’t get hurt like that again. It’s so unfair, and if Kurt ever happens to meet Connor, someone will have to physically restrain him so he doesn’t punch him in the face and kick him in the nuts. Because how dare he treat someone like that. How dare he treat _Blaine_ like that.

Blaine’s smile is a little wobbly. “Thank you,” he whispers, his fingers tightening around the blanket.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Kurt says and shuffles closer, placing his hands on Blaine’s thighs. “Him being an asshole will never be your fault.”

He leans in and kisses Blaine slowly and lightly, tenderly and feather-light, as if he’s caressing his lips with his own. He feels like he has to be extra careful right now, extra caring. Not because Blaine is fragile or easily broken -– he has never seen Blaine like that, has never thought of Blaine’s hurt as the most visible and tangible thing about him, not when Blaine is so much more and so much stronger, even if he doesn’t always see it himself –- but right now, when there are still tear tracks on Blaine’s cheeks, when his hands are still shaking and his smile so small, his shoulders hunched against the world that has hurt him, Kurt feels like Blaine deserves some tenderness. He deserves some soft touches and gentle kisses.

Blaine’s smile is a lot wider when Kurt breaks the kiss. He closed his eyes when Kurt leaned in, and now he opens one of his eyes first, squinting in the sunlight.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” he comments, sounding more like himself again.

Kurt grins, the smile so sudden that it makes his cheek hurt, and then tries to school his expression into something more serious again. “Well, I figured Connor deserves all the swear words after what he did to you. He deserves something else as well, but right now swear words are all I have.”

Blaine’s smile softens. He takes Kurt’s hands in his, slotting their fingers together and then leaning down to place a kiss on Kurt’s knuckles.

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Really. You make it all feel... okay, somehow. Like it’s finally becoming just another part of my past and not something that defines me. And it felt good to let it all out.”

“It doesn’t define you. And I’m glad that you feel like you can tell me things like that.” Kurt squeezes his hands. “I just... I just have one question, to be perfectly honest.”

Blaine looks up. “What’s that?”

“Would another round of sex make it all feel even more okay?”

Blaine bursts into giggles, the sound echoing around the sunlit room and his body almost bending in half from the force of his laughter. He looks so beautiful and care-free with his wild bedhead curls and squinty eyes, especially after everything they just talked about, that Kurt just has to tackle him on the bed, press their naked bodies together and kiss him senseless.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he whispers against Blaine’s grinning lips.

 

\---

 

“Thank you so much for helping me pick the flower arrangements,” Tina says as she spreads dozens of glossy pictures and printed papers over the dining room table in her and Mike’s apartment. “I would’ve asked Mike for help, since, you know, it’s his wedding as well, but he just keeps saying that whatever I choose will be fine with him and that all that matters is that I’m the person he’s marrying and blah blah blah...”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Kurt coos and takes a sip from his coffee. Tina’s coffee isn’t quite as good as Blaine’s, but it’s still pretty good. Although he might be a bit biased as well.

Tina sighs with a roll of her eyes. “It is, I know. But it doesn’t exactly help with the wedding planning.”

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help,” Kurt says and leans over the table to peer at the photos of elaborate flower arrangements and the few drawn sketches Tina has obviously done herself. “Blaine was really sorry that he couldn’t be here to help you, but they called him out of the blue and asked him to come fill in for some other music therapist who had gotten sick or something.”

“Flu season,” Tina replies and scrunches up her nose. “It happens at the community center every year around this time. But it’s fine, I’m sure your eye for decorations will be just as good as Blaine’s.”

Kurt hums in agreement. It’s nice to feel needed like this. It makes New York feel even more like home, even outside the walls of Blaine’s apartment, and he has grown really fond of Tina. She still reminds him a little of Rachel in some ways, but he’s come to learn that she and Rachel are also completely different in other respects.

Rachel, for example, would definitely choose the tacky pink arrangement for her wedding, the one with way too many flowers reaching way too high. That arrangement is the first one that Tina rejects.

“Definitely a no,” she mutters. “Nothing against pink, but too much is just too much.”

Kurt nods approvingly. He’s a bit disappointed himself that Blaine couldn’t come, because picking flower arrangements could have been even more fun with Blaine joining in as well, but it’s okay. It’s been almost a week since Blaine told him about Connor, and they’ve been so good together since then. He was worried that he would start treating Blaine differently, or that Blaine would start treating him differently, now that he knows, but nothing like that has happened. They still kiss, they still go out, and Kurt still goes with Blaine to the community center every now and then to sing with the kids and tell them stories about princes and princesses.

The only thing that has really changed is that there are a lot more kisses now. Kurt has also abandoned the sofa bed for good and started sleeping in Blaine’s bed, limbs tangled and the blanket covering them both. It almost feels like Blaine has also been smiling more and more with each day, his face open and unguarded, and his hands reaching out to touch Kurt even more often than before.

And then there’s the sex. Don’t even get him started on the sex. He’s a bit worried that he’s becoming addicted to it, because all Blaine has to do is something completely mundane, anything, really -– just standing still will do, or making coffee, or sitting on the couch reading something –- and Kurt will want to jump him and drag him to the bedroom. Not that Blaine seems to mind, judging by his enthusiastic reaction every time Kurt hasn’t been able to restrain himself and has actually jumped him – the way Blaine’s hands grab him and squeeze him, the way he always pushes closer as if he needs more and more, the way his mouth...

Nope, stop it. The wrong place and the wrong time.

“What about this one?” Kurt asks, trying to chase away any and all inappropriate thoughts, and points at a picture of light blue flowers and fitting greens arranged in a subtle vase. “Didn’t you say your color scheme was most likely going to be blue with something else?”

Tina taps her chin with her finger and purses her lips. “That one is nice, but I was wondering if it’s a bit too subtle? You know, for a–-”

Her phone beeps on the table next to the photos, the sudden sound startling them both.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I have to check it,” Tina sighs and reaches for the phone. “I’ve been waiting for this caterer to get back at me for days already.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Kurt waves her off and pulls one of the sketches closer. He doesn’t know what flowers any of the arrangements have, because apparently Kingleysian flowers are not the same as the flowers in this world, as he learned one time he and Blaine went to the park, but the ideas Tina has do seem pretty. They clearly show that she’s used to focusing on visual things and composition.

Tina lets out a sudden groan, and when Kurt looks up from the sketch, she throws her phone on the table with an angry clank and then buries her face in her hands.

Kurt blinks. “Tina?” he asks carefully and places the sketch back on the table. “Was that the caterer? Is everything alright?”

Tina shakes her head, her hair flinging back and forth. “No,” she mumbles into her hands. “That was Mike’s mom.”

“Is she okay?” Kurt asks, his mind immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

“No–- I mean, yes, she’s fine.” Tina drags her hands down her face until she can rest her chin on them. Her eyes look tired. “She just never agrees with me on anything.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow in question.

“She just texted me to tell me how ‘disappointed she is that our wedding does not showcase our Asian heritage’. As if that was the only point of our wedding, to show the world how Asian we are!” She makes a frustrated noise at the back of her throat. “I’m pretty sure the world already knows that we’re Asian!”

Kurt swallows uncomfortably, not used to seeing her like this. “Tina... It’s your wedding. You don’t have to do what Mike’s mom or anyone else says.”

“I know!” Tina yells, and suddenly there are tears in her eyes. “She’s just constantly criticizing me –- I’m pretty sure she’s always thought that I’m not good enough for her precious Michael, since I’m just a costume designer, not a performer like Mike, and she just keeps telling me how our wedding isn’t Asian enough and how the food we’ve chosen is all wrong and how we haven’t consulted her enough and–-”

“Tina, you’re starting to hyperventilate,” Kurt tries to interrupt.

“–-and it’s like, it’s my wedding? I’m the one getting married to the love of my life, not anyone else.” The tears in Tina’s eyes spill over. “C-can’t I just have that one day -– one _night_ –- where I’m the center of attention? Where I’m the one who gets to decide and who gets to have the day they want? Who gets to have the final vote?”

“Tina...” Kurt reaches out and takes her shaking hands in his own. He has seen this too many times before -– overbearing parents getting too involved in their children’s wedding is a very common problem in Kingleysia, and he has helped plan plenty of weddings, since he hasn’t exactly been busy with a wedding of his own. “Of course you can have that,” he assures her. “You _will_ have that.”

“No, I won’t, if she has anything to say about it,” Tina grumbles and shoots a dirty glance at her phone.

“Have you talked to Mike about this?” Kurt asks quietly. “Told him how annoying his mom is being?”

Tina shakes her head and frees one of her hands from Kurt’s hold to wipe the tears from her face. “No,” she sniffs. “I don’t want to make him feel like he has to choose between me and his mother.”

“Come on, isn’t Mike the one who’s been telling you that he’ll accept anything you choose as long as you’re the person he’s marrying?” Kurt reminds her. Tina nods sheepishly. “See? That sounds a lot like he’s chosen you already. You’re... You’re not a plastic bag, Tina. You’re a firework.”

Tina chokes on a laugh. “Oh my god, Kurt.”

“You don’t have to let Mike’s mom or anyone else tell you how to plan your own wedding,” he goes on. “It’s your wedding. You can let your colors show, not anyone else.”

Tina is full-on giggling by now as she tries to wipe the tears away from her eyes. “Did you just quote Katy Perry at me? Twice?”

Kurt stops, thinking back to the words he just said. Tina’s right -– he did just kind of quote the song Blaine sometimes sings along to when they’re making dinner and the radio is on. “Oh. I think I did.”

Tina laughs and shakes her head in amusement. “Thank you. That was one of the best pep-talks I’ve ever gotten.” She squeezes Kurt’s hands once and then lets go to swipe her fingers under her eyes. “And I’m sorry for going all weepy and screaming on you. Mike’s mom can be so frustrating sometimes, and she has been texting me constantly for the last few days.”

“It’s okay.” Kurt shrugs and gives her a comforting smile. “I’ve had friends get married before. I know how frustrating wedding planning can be when you want everything to be perfect to your own standards and to no one else’s.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Tina takes a deep breath and blinks her eyes a few times. “Phew. How did you even remember that Katy Perry song? It came out when we were in high school, and that was ages ago.”

Kurt laughs nervously. It’s not like he can tell Tina that he never went to a high school –- Kingleysia has a very different school system –- and that he wasn’t even in this world when that song came out. The only reason he even knows it is because Blaine seems to have a deep and passionate love for Katy Perry’s music and turns the volume up high every time one of her songs happens to be on the radio. He has even lectured Kurt about “Ms. Katy Perry’s amazing powers of song”.

Well, Kurt can tell Tina that. It’s the truth, after all.

“Oh, I’ve heard Blaine singing it once or twice around the apartment,” he says and shrugs his shoulders, hoping to look casual and relaxed. It’s still sometimes so difficult to lie to people about his background, especially since he has become so close with Tina. “I think I had it stuck in my head for like a week after the first time he did that.”

Tina snorts. “Sounds familiar. He used to drive me crazy with his Katy Perry obsession back in...” Then she stops, blinks her eyes, and stares at Kurt. “Wait. Did you say that Blaine has been singing? Somewhere outside his work?”

Kurt frowns. “Yes? He sings along to the radio all the time.”

Tina’s face breaks into a smile. A genuine, pleased and a little surprised smile. “That’s-– Good. I mean, I’m–- I’m glad. I’m so glad he’s singing. He should be.”

Kurt tilts his head in confusion, and then it hits him. He’s gotten so used to Blaine singing and humming and swinging his hips to the songs on the radio already that he’d forgotten about it –- that first day at the community center, Blaine putting his guitar away with an uncomfortable expression on his face, and the words _I used to sing all the time, but then I just... stopped_. He knows now why Blaine stopped; he didn’t say it out right when he was telling him about Connor, but it was all there, between the lines and the pauses he had to take between the sentences.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling back at Tina. “He should be.”

Tina’s smile widens into a grin, and she bounces a little on her seat. “Talking about things that should be... I have some really exciting news for you.”

Kurt gasps. “Don’t tell me that you’re pregnant?”

“ _What_? No.” Tina lets out a laugh and shakes her head. “That can wait until after the wedding. No, this actually concerns you.” She turns around and reaches for her purse on the kitchen counter, rummaging through it and then pulling out a colorful flyer. “Our theater has been talking about starting an internship program, and I happen to think you’d be the perfect candidate for our costume department.”

She hands the flyer to Kurt, who just stares at it in bewilderment. He tries to make sense of the words printed on it, words like “opportunity” and “experience” and several excited adjectives, but it all seems so sudden and unexpected that he doesn’t even know what to say. He can barely even know what to think, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on dry land. Costume design. For an actual theater. It sounds so much better than his duties as a prince –- to be perfectly honest, it sounds like a dream come true -– but he’s... Could he even be an actual costume designer? Could he really make clothes for someone else than himself, abandon his status as a prince and betray his father?

Tina is staring at him, all expectant and eager. “Well?” she drawls.

“Tina, that’s really nice of you, but...” Kurt places the flyer down on the table and strokes his fingers over its shiny surface. It just looks too good to be true. “It’s not like I have any training or anything,” he hedges. “And I... To be perfectly honest, I don’t even know how much longer I’m going to be staying here,” he confesses.

Somehow those words are much easier to say to Tina than to Blaine.

Tina grins. “But that’s the thing. You wouldn’t need any education, it says so on the flyer.” She taps at the piece of paper between them, and Kurt blinks his eyes to make sense of the words. She’s right: it does say so. “It’s only an internship, even though it is a paid one. Besides, I’ve seen what kind of clothes you’ve made. It’s obvious you have the talent for it.” Tina winks at him. “I bet if we showed that prince costume of yours to our director, he would hire you on the spot.”

Kurt can feel his cheeks flushing from the praise. “But I...”

“And don’t even try to tell me that you don’t want to stay here,” Tina interrupts. “You love this city. You love the rhythm and the people and all the places you can go to, all the things you can see when you step outside –- all the possibilities! I know what it feels like, and Blaine does too. That’s why we stayed. And that’s why you should stay too.”

Kurt swallows and blinks his eyes, Tina’s words hitting a bit too close for comfort. There’s something heavy and wet lodged behind his eyelids, and somehow his heart feels like it’s about to burst. Because he... He can’t–-

“I do want to stay here,” he blurts out, finally admitting it out loud, and Tina’s smile softens. “I-– I really do. This is the first place where I’ve really felt like I fit in, and I... I don’t want to leave.” His voice goes tight with emotion. “I just don’t know if it’s possible for me to stay.”

Tina looks at him for a moment. “You love him, don’t you? Blaine, I mean.”

Kurt takes a deep breath. The first tear falls down his cheek. “Y-yes,” he breathes out, and then repeats it, this time without the waver in his voice, because even though it’s scary and new, he’s still absolutely sure of it: “Yes.”

“Have you told him?” Tina asks.

Kurt shakes his head. “I... I haven’t. It’s still so new, and it’s so complicated in so many ways I can’t really tell you about, and I just–- I don’t know, Tina. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“This was his idea, you know,” Tina says and places her hand on the flyer. When Kurt just blinks at her, she goes on. “We were talking on the phone the other night, and I was telling him about this new internship program our theater is starting, for actors and dancers, and he said that it would be so great if we had a program for costume designers as well, because then maybe you could apply for it. He’s seen your sketches, Kurt, and he thinks they’re the most beautiful clothes he’s ever seen. And I happen to agree.” She takes the flyer and turns it over in her hands. “But then, just when I was starting to get excited about his idea, he said that it probably wouldn’t work out anyway. Because he doesn’t know how long you’re going to be staying here.”

Kurt swallows again and averts his gaze.

“Have you told him that you want to stay?” Tina asks, her voice careful and devoid of any judgement for once.

“Not in so many words, no,” Kurt admits. “I’ve told him that we should take it one day at a time and see what happens, but... Like I said, it’s complicated.”

“Okay.” Tina nods and straightens her back. “I obviously don’t know the whole story, and I’m not going to ask for it, even though I’m really curious -– but I still think you should consider it.” She pushes the flyer into Kurt’s hands and waits until he takes it. “You obviously love Blaine, and you obviously love New York –- and well, won’t you look at that, Blaine is in New York, how convenient. And it’s pretty obvious to me that he loves you as well. Has been ever since that first day Mike and I ran into you two.”

Kurt looks up at that, the tears blurring his vision. “W-what?”

Tina smiles. “It’s been nice to see him wear his heart out on his sleeve again. I’ve missed that Blaine.” She starts collecting the pictures of flower arrangements into neat piles -– blue arrangements in one pile, reds in another, and so on. “But he’s not fragile, you know. Even though that asshole Connor really did mess him up,” she adds, a touch of anger in her voice.

Kurt almost bristles at the implication. “I’ve never seen Blaine as fragile,” he counters and furiously wipes the tears from his eyes.

Tina shrugs, not responding to the indignation in Kurt’s voice. “I know. If you had, Blaine would’ve never fallen in love with you. But you’re still afraid to tell him the truth, because you’re worried that it would complicate things too much or that you’d scare him away, after everything he’s already been through. You’re trying to protect him, in a way, or maybe you’re trying to protect yourself as well. I just don’t think it’s fair to either one of you.”

Kurt stares at her, not really knowing what to say.

“Don’t be a plastic bag, Kurt,” Tina finishes. “Be a firework. Blaine can handle the sparks just fine.” She evens out the pile she’s holding in her hands by tapping it against the table and then considers the photograph on top of it. “You were right, though; the one with the blue flowers does look nice. I think we’re going to go with those. Thanks, Kurt.”

Kurt blinks, holding the flyer tightly in his hands. “No, um. Thank _you_.”

Tina gets up from her chair and walks around the table to give him a brief hug. “You’re welcome. Just don’t go all Connor on him, okay? Not that I think you ever would.”

“I won’t,” Kurt promises against her hair.

 

\---

 

Kurt walks home in a daze, barely even noticing the passers-by or the smell of fresh croissants wafting out of the bakery that’s become one of his and Blaine’s regular places. Tina’s words keep going around in circles inside his head -– because she was right, wasn’t she? He hasn’t been treating Blaine like he’s fragile, but he has been keeping quiet about some things because he’s been afraid.

Of what, though? Of the intensity of his own feelings, or how new this all is to him? Of betraying his father and Kingleysia in some way, if he admitted out loud that he wants to stay here, that he wants to be with Blaine and live in New York and design clothes and costumes, and not become the future king of his country? Of admitting how complicated the situation is, even though both he and Blaine are aware of it already?

Kurt stops in front of Blaine’s -– in front of _their_ –- apartment building, looking at the brick construction that’s taller than any of the houses he’s ever seen in Kingleysia, apart from the castle, perhaps. He always thought that finding love and being in love would be so simple and straightforward: find your true love, confess your feelings, get married, live happily ever after. That’s what it was like for his parents, until his mother passed away, and even after that his dad was lucky enough to find love again with Kurt’s step-mother. That’s what it was like for Rachel as well, and for everyone else he knows in Kingleysia, and though he could guess that he was always going to be different because of his sexuality and his status, he thought that’s what it would be like for him as well.

But it’s not like that at all. It’s confusing and complicated and difficult -– isn’t that what Blaine’s dad said, when Kurt was eavesdropping on their conversation? That relationships are scary and messy and confusing, and nobody is good at them. He’s starting to realize that Mr. Anderson was absolutely right. But... he was also wrong, in some ways. Because if Kurt looks past all those confusions and complications, it’s all actually absurdly simple.

Blaine is always worth all the questions and fears.

Kurt pushes the front door open and jogs to the elevator, feeling impatient all of a sudden. He waits for the elevator to reach the right floor, practically bouncing on his feet, and then opens the door to the apartment with the key Blaine gave him after his first few days in New York.

“Blaine?” he calls.

The apartment is dark, with just the sunlight streaming in from the living room window. Blaine’s messenger bag is leaning against the wall next to the door, though, so he must have at least been here after Kurt left.

“Blaine? Are you here?” he calls again and walks further into the apartment, looking around in case Blaine is in the bathroom or in the bedroom, but the whole place is quiet, and he’s obviously the only one home.

He stops in front of the sofa table, his sketch book and pencils organized neatly on top of it, and notices a bright yellow post-it note taped next to his sketches. He picks it up, immediately recognizing Blaine’s handwriting.

 

_Kurt–-_

_I’m sorry I’m not at home, but I do have a surprise for you! Meet me at this address at eight. It’s not Wicked, but maybe it’ll be almost as good. :)_

_Blaine_

 

Underneath the message is the address of a coffee shop that they’ve sometimes gone to, the one that has delicious red velvet cupcakes and a small stage in one corner. Kurt smiles down at the note and then places it carefully in his pocket. The surprise must be a good one -– all of Blaine’s surprises have been good, and if he used a smiley face in the note, he must be pretty excited himself as well. Kurt takes a look at the clock on the living room wall; it’s a little after seven, so if he leaves right now, he should have plenty of time to reach the coffee shop early and maybe find Blaine and ask him what he’s up to.

Kurt turns around towards the front door, but he must’ve been standing closer to the sofa table than he realized, because his knee bumps into the table, making the pencils on it rattle. When he bends down to straighten them again, he notices his brooch lying on the floor next to the table. It must’ve fallen down just now, so he picks it up and places it back on the table without a second thought, only a little surprised by how warm its surface is. It has been sunny and warm all day, though, so the sunshine coming in from the window must have warmed it up during the day.

He has a surprise to see, so once he’s straightened up again he just glances around the apartment to make sure everything else is in order and then walks out, leaving the brooch behind like he has for weeks already.

It’s not like he really needs it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, even after all this time! Comments are still love. ♥


End file.
